


Scratchy Satin Sheets

by FactCheck



Series: Requests [5]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human God, An Unnecessary Amount of Bathing, An absolute love and devotion to Usopp, An overwhelming amount of sexual tension, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Basically most of the former toys from Dressrosa become Usopp's priests, Basically most pirates are just human gods in this AU please follow along, Bath Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Ceremonies, Enthusiastic Consent, God Usopp - Freeform, Gods and Priests, Group Sex, Harems, Human God Hierarchy, Human God Usopp, Human God Zoro, Insecurity, M/M, Muscle Kink, Muscles, Panic Attacks, Pining, Post-Dressrosa, Praise Kink, Rituals, Smut, Temple, Temple life, That or priests, The fact that I'm a historian is a little too obvious, The historical inaccuracies are valid because it's a fictional universe so suck it, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-05 16:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17922056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FactCheck/pseuds/FactCheck
Summary: Usopp returns back to his temple from the Games, missing his friends and trying not to fall into too deep of a depression after being separated from them so soon after they were reunited, but human gods have to follow the rules, especially Usopp. Being an unpopular god was hard, being a god of misfortune that brought bad luck and little hope to people was even harder.God Usopp finds that life could get even harder when new priests are welcomed into his temple and start turning his life upside down.





	1. Flower Petals and Hyperventilation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hehe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hehe/gifts).



> This is a big boy y'all. This is a requested fic that I let get wildly out of hand and now is just,,,,wowie. The concept sounds deep but it's relatively easy to follow i think! I don't expect this to be a very popular fic because not everyone is an avid Usopp lover or has interest in such extensive AUs, but I worked hard on this and I want at least some fellow lovers to enjoy it too!!!
> 
> Thanks to my beta owl_beans as per usual!

Usopp lowered his slingshot, chest heaving with exertion, curls sticking  slickly to his face from the sweat pouring down his temples. He pushed the mass of hair away from his eyes to see the scene play out in front of him more clearly.

The deafening roar of the crowd engulfed the sound of his breath, but it was dimmed by the rush of his own heart in his ears.

It had been a long time since he had last competed in any of the Games, the two years of self-training not preparing him for the activities deemed suitable for “Godly Sports” and the few months of being back in Luffy’s circle hadn’t kicked him out of solitary habits completely. It was easy to work out and train - it was considerably harder to fight against someone whose gifts included existence erasure where one small error could mean the end of not only his beloved **god of gods** but a horde of common folk.

The little girl, a **priestess of will** , collapsed with a horrified scream, the hallucinogenic bulbs working their magic as he hit his target. Usopp almost mirrored her posture, falling to his knees as he continued to pant harshly; gasping breath filtering past his bruised throat and aching ribs painfully, but he was satisfied with the outcome.

There was a brief moment when shaded eyes swung to look at him, a moment where the pounding in his heart stilled and the world froze, hung on a string, before Luffy took the eyes’ attention back.

Luffy would win against the **god of autonomy**.

Luffy was blessed enough to do anything, willful enough to beat anyone, and powerful enough to be stopped by nothing.

Usopp had done his part, he deserved a rest.

His eyes slipped closed, the last thing he saw before everything turned black was a gaggle of common folk flashing into view as the **priestess of will** fainted.

——————-

It was difficult, Usopp found, to be back in his temple.

Back to his hard throne and open windows that let in uncomfortably muggy air and bugs. The bells around his ankles jingled mockingly as he shifted, his nose filled with cloying incense that felt almost toxic after the sweet ones used at the Games.

Being a human god for the most part was boring. Being an unpopular human god was downright miserable.

He missed Luffy.

He missed Zoro and Franky and Robin and Nami and Chopper and Brook. Maybe even Sanji, if only just a little bit.

He missed the freedom being with other worshiped people gave him. The kind of companionship he had to give up after he was chosen as the next person to be a living god for his village, after his father left and his mother passed away, leaving him with nothing but priests and wary worshipers as company.

A _**god of misfortune**_.

A gloomy position. One where people only came to beg him not to inflict his blessing on them - or to ask to be protected against it.

He was still shocked a **god of children and luck** came to him, asked him to be a part of his circle, ask him to join his venture into ascending into the lofty role of the **god of gods**. Getting to meet others like him, the people he had come to accept as his family, who knew the pains of being worshiped and separated from general society, the fear of either dying a god or being kicked back into your humanity with little ways of supporting yourself.

Usopp had long given up hope of leaving his position. He had talked about it when he was younger, had whispered through the walls to his childhood crush that he would leave the temple and run away, live as a wanderer for the rest of his life if it meant he could be normal again. But Kaya had been sickly and he was scared to leave her, scared to come back and find her gone from this world. She had been the one to really talk him down, telling him he was needed and that his place was important, and Usopp was glad for an excuse not to run away from her. He believed her words and took comfort in her presence until she was whisked away to be a priestess to some **goddess of health** in hopes her condition would better, leaving him behind, alone. He had decided to stay put, to wait for her, to trust in her words that he was needed and wanted.

It was hard to feel needed when he was blamed for every disaster, though.

Terribly hard.

Then, like a storm, Luffy had rolled into his village, seemingly bringing disaster with him, but ultimately saving their tiny town from extinction as they were betrayed by the village leader’s servant.

A **_god of children and luck_** , followed closely by a **god of lost wanderers** and a **goddess of travelers** , all on their way to the yearly Games while hunting down other human gods to join their circle.

Luffy wanted the world and Usopp believed he would get it.

It was like a dream come true when that beloved god asked if Usopp wanted to join him and his small but ever growing circle.

Usopp didn’t care if he would have to return when the seasonal Events were over, if he would be stuck back in his temple after being absent for a year - the thought of finally getting away with no priests to gently admonish him every time his feet touched the ground or anytime someone got too close after his cleansing.

He would be in a traveling band full of equals.

Not even the tremble in his body from the prospect that he could get killed by some higher ranked god did anything to quell his excitement.

Now, though, it was nearly painful to think about. It felt like they had such a short amount of time together after their long separation. After the death of Luffy’s brother, Ace, Luffy had been wrecked, intent on ensuring that he gained enough power to protect his circle, to ensure he never had to go through that pain again.

And they were all besides themselves after hearing the news; afraid for their beloved god and pained by their inability to comfort him.

It had been good to see them after those distressing years, but now, being away again, it felt too soon. Their reunion so brief and so filled with fighting and fear, it had been over and done with both too quickly and so agonizingly slow.

“God Usopp!” The harsh whisper brought him out of his daze and Usopp turned to the trio of boys, all dressed in their ceremonial robes for the festival of Usopp’s return home.

Usopp didn’t reply, as he wasn’t allowed to, but he tilted his head in acknowledgement, eyes darting around for any of the priests before turning to look at them fully instead of out of the corner of his eye.

“God Usopp, did you see the crowd outside?” Piiman started again, his eyes constantly flickering to look behind his back at the door they came through, “It’s the biggest I’ve ever seen!”

“Of course it is. You heard about what our God Usopp did at the Games - he surely won over a lot of new followers.” Tamanegi butted in, pulling his cloak closer to himself in protection against the chilly morning air. “It’d be madness if there wasn’t a flock of people racing to see the awe-inspiring God Usopp!”

“Yeah, but no one thought it’d be _that_ much.” Ninjin argued back.

Usopp listened with half an ear as the three boys argue amongst each other, his own eyes trained on the slightly opened door, straining to catch a glimpse of this crowd.

“You three!”

Unsurprisingly, the boy’s loud voices had alerted one of the priests and Usopp straightened up nervously. The Head Priest, Mornin, continued ranting as he got closer, grabbing Piiman by the collar and directing the lot out a side door as he chastised them.

When all four had vacated, Usopp waited a few seconds before carefully standing, trying hard not to jingle the bells on his person. He winced every time one clinked as he stepped closer to the door, curiosity getting the better of him.

Cautiously, Usopp pushed the door wider, peeking through to see the swarm of worshipers waiting for the festival to begin.

Usopp’s eyes widened at the sight; a full sea of people crowded together, their bright yellow and red clothes appearing startling bright against the pale morning sun and the thick blue fog that covered the ground, making it seem as if the gathering was wading in water.

It was the first time Usopp has seen such a large group for his returning festival - or any festival for that matter. They were a small village to begin with and the turnout for a misfortune god had never been the best. Even the few times he had returned from the Events hadn’t increased the numbers of worshipers to this great extent.

Usopp felt a moment of dizziness, his breath catching in his chest with the knowledge that the swarm outside his temple doors was for _him_. That they had come to see _him_.

The lightheadedness caused him to stumble forward, the bells around his ankles cutting sharply through the temple’s silence as he leaned against the door.

There was a heart stopping moment when the door gave way against his weight, the wood and iron creaking open and Usopp thought his lungs had failed him with how little he could breathe. The sudden jerking of the door as it ran into something gave his heart a single second of continued stillness before the organ was pumping erratically in his chest.

He looked up, following the line of a profile to the imposing face of a man, if he could be called that, as he was a wall of pure muscle and strength.

The massive man turned minutely to look behind him, eyes widening behind his helmet when he caught sight of Usopp.

Before Usopp could scurry back to his hiding hole, the wall of a man reached down and picked him up effortlessly, lifting him up high as he dragged the dark skinned man out of the temple and into the morning sun.

The quiet voices that had been rising and falling amicably stilled in an instant, all eyes turned on Usopp and his bulky captor.

The beat of his heart was painful as he waited for something to happen, for anything to happen. He considered the fact that perhaps the crowd wasn’t here to celebrate his return, but rather to punish him for taking down Sugar and helping in dethroning Doflamingo. Usopp thought about the wide reach the Donquixote sphere reached and the massive surge in hatred towards Luffy after he dismantled the older man’s reign of power. They had angered not only a lot of people, but had angered a lot of the highest tier, people who could have them all murdered in a blink of an eye.

The anxiety was back, crashing through Usopp in a thick, black wave. He shouldn’t have left the crew again, even if it was a requirement to keep his post as a god, even if it was so that they didn’t lose their placement in the world - it would definitely be safer and more secure to stick together. They could have opened a pantheon and tried to petition for their continued godhoods and priesthoods in front of the ruling council-

Before Usopp could continue his line of thought, his downward spiral was halted by his captor’s booming voice:

“God Usopp!”

And like that, the crowd’s deafening cheer washed away his fear and left his head spinning dizzyingly as the gentle air was broken suddenly and harshly.

Usopp instead was overcome with an intense embarrassment, and he waffled between struggling in the giant man’s grasp and hiding his face in awkwardness.

Before he could voice his desire to be released in the sweet relief of death, he was gently placed back on the ground, the small rocks and dirt littering the raised steps to the temple doors digging into his bare feet, making him aware that he was definitely not supposed to be walking around, especially not outside.

He made a quarter turn step, intent on slipping back inside and hiding on his throne until the priests arrived and noticed his dirty appearance and demanded he be cleaned again, but he didn’t make it far before hands were grabbing at him and tugging on his clothes, his hair, his hands, his bells and chains and bangles. There were too many people rushing at him, pulling and jerking him from left and right.

Usopp pulled at the hands, stumbling back and crashing back into the wide chest of the first man, the giant who had dragged him into the sunlight and kickstarted the entire situation.

It definitely hadn’t been Usopp’s fault for leaving his post to go see the crowd in the first place.

Definitely not.

Just like the first time, Usopp was shocked speechless when he was grabbed under the arms and hoisted into the air, risen completely above the swarming group of worshipers who tried desperately to feel his skin and kiss his hands. He gripped the giant’s hands in his own, not daring to struggle for fear that he would be dropped and drowned in the mass of crowding bodies.

Usopp’s feet touched the ground again, the cool stone of his temple greeting him as the door behind him was closed.

He waited for a few beats, the suddenness of the situation taking a while to process as he realized he had been saved from the horde. The god turned to look at the doors, the voices on the other side booming in an incomprehensible clashing of sounds.

The heat and residual feel of the hands grabbing and tugging at him left him off-kiltered, but the  pressure from the giant man’s touch continued to burn his skin and he rubbed absently at it.

As if on queue, the priest Mornin came around the corner and saw him, frowning disapprovingly at the god.

“The crowd...” Usopp started, trailing off as the old man got closer. He motioned towards the door half-heartedly, as if the movement could finish the rest of his sentence for him.

The old man shook his head, the corners of his mouth downturning, but he didn’t comment on Usopp’s frazzled appearance or his disappearance from his station.

“Let’s clean up before the ceremony.”

Usopp nodded back at the priest and followed him out the entrance way to the bathing area where Luigia, an old priestess woman, and his ceremonial clothes were waiting.

_____________________

Usopp leaned over the edge of the below-ground bath, frowning at the set of clothes hanging off a faceless statue.  They were the nicest clothes he owned and the oldest - leftovers from his predecessors that lasted through the trials of time, but he could see that the cloth was starting to wear in some places.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Uh, yes?” The reply was nearly automatic and Usopp could feel his face heat in embarrassment because he definitely had not been listening to the older woman as she scrubbed his back roughly with a sponge on a long stick.

She smacked him over the head with the wet weapon, Usopp ducking too late to avoid the hit.

He rubbed his head, glaring at Luigia with no real heat, turning towards her fully as she smacked the stick in her hand, a lecture poised on her tongue, waiting for his full attention.

“You probably didn’t hear about it, but ever since your return, the village has been getting more and more residences. All sorts of types, more than anyone knows what to do with. The village is expanding rapidly.” Though she didn’t exactly say it was bad, Usopp still felt like she was blaming him for something, so he gave her a small, placating smile in hopes of getting her forgiveness.

Her faces gentled at his expression, lowering the sponge into the water as she continued.

“It’s a good thing, god Usopp.” Her face looked soft and her voice sounded tired. “I know our small village never could give you a truly... _godly_ experience. Most of your priests are us old folk who came from the previous god. A misfortune god doesn’t get much recognition and the worshiper flow and donations are...low.”

“I've never felt stifled here, Luigia.” Usopp rested his head on his folded arms, looking up at the old woman through the flyaway curls that had escaped from his bun.

It was a lie, of course.

He had always felt stifled living as a god. It wasn’t exactly because of the rather poor conditions, but they definitely didn’t help. Usopp could barely remember what it was like to live as a normal person, to be able to walk around freely, to be able to talk to anyone he wished to. The closest he had gotten to that was in Luffy’s group, but that wasn’t a full time thing yet.

It would be, though.

Once Luffy became the god of gods, Usopp could stay with him and the others, with people who saw him as an equal, as a person.

Usopp closed his eyes, mind wondering to a future where they could have the freedom that was only afforded to the top tiers. As he was, he was little more than a gilded prisoner.

Usopp frowned at the thought.

“Finished!”

Usopp opened his eyes to see the three priest boys clutching nearly empty baskets of red and orange flowers. The ground from the edge of the tub and out the door haphazardly strewn with the bright floral buds to show their hard work.

Usopp couldn’t hold back a smile when Luigia gave a dramatic sign as the three boys tittered to themselves about the crowd waiting to get in.

“That’s good, we just finished here. Step out.”

Usopp followed her command obediently, trying to push his earlier thoughts down deep enough that his mind was no longer clouded with them, and failing.

Usopp stepped carefully on the flowers, looking at them between his toes and poking at the browning petals with little interest as he waited for his clothes to be put on.

Luigia and the boys struggled with the heavy garments, but after a bit of effort and discreet assistance from Usopp, the thick red covering slid up his legs and hugged his waist. Luigia tied the leather bands tight so that the bejeweled metal rim didn’t follow along with the whims of gravity.

Usopp gave a tentative sway of his torso, testing the layered cloth and metal hangings. When they stayed on, he nodded his head at Luigia who was already taking the two looping pieces of cloth out of the rim of the skirt and manhandling his arms through them, straightening them out until they sat against his chest and back in some type of mock, wide set suspenders. She continued, pulling out two strips of fabric that had been tucked in the folds of the skirt and snapping open metal rings, fitting them through the slots at the ends of two pieces of loose fabric and clasping them closed around his wrists and upper arms. He shook out his arms, frowning at the swish of the useless sleeves.

Luigia turned back to the mannequin, picking up a box with a pitiful groan as she straightened back up, pounding a fist against her lower back and giving a rather loud sigh, looking pointedly at the three boys as she made a show of struggling to hold the box up.

Piiman rolled his eyes in exasperation, a rather funny look on his young face, before grabbing the box from her and opening it, showing the inside to Ninjin and Tamanegi.

The three grabbed handfuls of bell chains, shaking them out and struggling to untangle them.

Tamanegi finished first, walking over to Usopp and motioning him to lean down so the boy could thread the clasps through the loops on the arm flaps, closing them together in a more reasonable mock-sleeve. Ninjin did the same on his other arm while Piiman gave up his struggle and handed the bells to Luigia who made sure to make a loud ruckus of disappointed sighs as she untangled each chain.

When she finished, she took half and gave the rest to Piiman, both of them hooking the clasps through the loops on the sides to “close” the suspender-shirt’s openings along his ribs.

Luigia paused in her threading, tongue clicking audibly as she pulled at the fabric strip.

“The loop is broken.” Usopp raised his arm higher to look at it, chewing at his cheek when he saw the missing hole.

Luigia sighed heavily, this time of real exhaustion, before producing a knife from the folds of her own skirt and ramming the end through the fabric, creating a mock hole.

“I’ll fix everything later.”

Usopp just nodded in reply, worrying at his lip before he caught himself and stopped.

Usopp fiddled with the inner edge of the shirt as they continued to thread the bell chains, thinking of how it was more like an attached open and backless vest than anything and feeling rather exposed by the bare-ness of his back and front.

Luigia instructed the three boys to lower both the heavy set of neck amulets and Usopp dipped his head without complaint to take the necklaces around his neck, Luigia fussing with the lot until they were all settled properly. He frowned at the headpiece, his neck already screaming from the remembered pressure, but despite his hesitation, the large piece was fixed onto his head after Luigia had pulled his hair out of its bun and ordered it as nicely as she could.

Luigia looked him over critically, a tired smile spreading over her face as she reached a hand up to pat his face. Usopp bent down, letting the old women do as she wished. “You look perfect.”

Usopp frowned, words forming on the tip of his tongue, but the presence of the three boys stilled it.

Luigia seemed to have noticed his anxiety, but she said nothing and instead waved a hand at the door.

“Come on, we need to do the finishing touches before the festival starts.”

Usopp followed the three boys out the doors, his steps careful as he tried to balance the heavy metal on his head and keep to the flowered path at the same time.

He couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief when he sank into his chair, the ability to distribute the pressure more satisfying than the uncomfortableness that the hard stone left. Usopp shuffled around, getting as comfortable as he could.

It was Mornin who came then, two pots cradled in his arms as he hurried to Usopp’s side.

“We’re running out of time, the sun is almost fully risen.” Mornin dropped the pots at Usopp’s feet, instructing the boys to quickly get to work.

Piiman and Ninjin took the red pot, both pulling out the brushes inside and grabbing Usopp’s hands, smearing the red paint across his palms and then doing the same to the bottom of his feet.

Usopp couldn’t contain another frown, knowing he wouldn’t get away with anything without leaving behind evidence until the paint had fully been washed off.

Mornin and Tamanegi took the second pot, carefully pulling the brushes from the gold paint and getting to work marking his bare skin with the designs meant for the festival. Usopp held still as Mornin stroked the brush next to his eyes and forehead, moving only to tilt his head up when the old man dragged it from his bottom lip all the way over his goatee and down his neck to his chest.

When he was finished, Mornin stepped back with a critical eye and looks Usopp over, making small adjustments to his hair and necklaces and reorganizing the bells. Luigia sighed loudly every time the old man fiddled with something, but she didn’t stop him.

Mornin stepped back with a satisfied smile and Usopp thought it was over before the man froze, eyes trained on Usopp’s legs.

“The anklet bangles?” Mornin asked the old woman.

Luigia grimaced at the words, motioning Tamanegi forward.

“Go get the box.”

When the boy returned, both Luigia and Mornin reached in to grab the thick beaded bangles, the heavy metal weighted further by the three rows of bells.

Usopp couldn’t contain a sigh at the sight of them.

He had been hoping they would have forgotten.

The two elders clasped the anklets on him and Usopp settled in for a long day of stillness.

_____________

The crowd was larger than Usopp had glimpsed that morning.

As soon as the doors were opened, the mass of people who waited outside were nearly vibrating with excitement, edging the boundaries of the door frame as the hired men carried Usopp’s aging palanquin out into the sun.

The space used for traveling to the festival location was narrow as the worshipers packed in, straining to get closer, to sneak a touch, to call his name. Usopp shifted his feet closer together as a few people swiped at the flower base, coming away with handfuls of petals.

Mornin and Luigia walked in front, holding up the ceremonial staffs, Luigia dipping down to swipe at offending people as she walked. The three boys traveled behind, ringing their bell poles and joyously following in the head-priestess’s image as they too swung unhindered at the pulsating mass of followers whose hands strayed too close.

Usopp felt conflicted at the attention.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. Seeing the crowd left something warm deep inside his chest, a euphoria that made it hard to breathe. But at the same time, there was a gripping weight in his stomach. A fear of embarrassment and anxiety that stemmed from his own self-doubt.

The warring emotions made him stiff and twitchy as they continued down the road. He bemoaned the lack of veil on the current ceremony’s costume.

It was a relief when he was set down in front of the steps to the raised stage. The boys raced forward, digging more flowers out of the side satchels, scattering them from the edge of the palanquin and up the stairs. Usopp waited with barely concealed impatience as he waited for the boys to finish and for Mornin and Luigia to take his hands and lead him up the stairs. He sat on the seat, the chair so uncomfortable that he couldn’t help thinking that even his shit stone throne was better than the unsteady branch _thing_ that was surely a punishment in and of itself.

And just like that, the festival began.

It was a rather distant one - the crowd not allowed to touch the stone platform and the activities involved set around the structure. There was feasting, dancing, plays, and a rather boring speech given by the village leader, and the hours dragged on for Usopp as the people became more preoccupied with each other rather than with him.

It wasn’t until the sky was starting to darken that the crowd’s attention turned towards Usopp.

It was almost an instantaneous shift, Mornin climbing the steps to stand at his side, his arms raising and voice sounding out to get the large gathering’s attention.

With all the eyes turned back on him, Usopp went inside his own head to stop himself from physically cringing away as Mornin gave his own speech.

It was less long and tedious than the village leader’s who had spoken about the increase in the village size over the last while and the subsequent expansion of the village, but it was still long winded and uninteresting to Usopp.

“-new priests taking over.” The applause was what pulled Usopp back to the present, Mornin waiting patiently as the crowd went wild. The last dregs of the speech registered in his mind and Usopp couldn’t contain a frown. Mornin stepped to the side, his back no longer blocking Usopp’s view of the gathering.

There was a clear divide in the group, a handful of people given a breadth as they stood in front of the stage.

Usopp leant forward, hands gripping the wicker armrests as he looked at the lot. It was hard to look at them, embarrassment stealing his sight and forcing him to look away and back towards Mornin, a clear question on his distressed face.

The old priest, used to Usopp, came forward, resting a hand on his shoulder and leaning close, shielding him from the people’s eyes.

“Breathe,” but it was too late, and Usopp could feel his world crash around his ears as he fully realized what Mornin meant. He gripped the old man’s sleeve, pulling it closer to him as he tried to still his hyperventilation. There were words on his lips, but his tongue was twisting and turning in his mouth. “Can you hold it together for a little longer? We’ll go home soon.”

Usopp wanted to say that, no, he could not, but instead he drew in a breath so deeply that he thought his lungs would pop and then let it out as slowly as he could until he had reset his breathing into a semi-regular cycle.

It was with a hazy mind that the rest of the festival pasted by Usopp. He didn’t let himself think, too afraid of the panic that edged around his thoughts. He was escorted off the stage, his body moving on autopilot as he climbed back into the palanquin. The brush of hands against his feet and legs didn’t even register in his mind, but he still felt the inklings of nausea, though he didn’t know if what he felt was from the skin contact or the effort he was putting into not having a panic attack.

 He was in such a daze, that he stepped off the palanquin before the boys could scatter their flowers, the only warning he got was a surprised exclamation from Tamanegi before he was grabbed around the waist and held above the ground. He turned dazedly, half expecting the same man from the morning, but found an older man with long grey hair and a beard and mustache to match.

The older man looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself (or rather, what to do with the god in his grasp), and he held Usopp away from his body as much as he could while still keeping himself balanced with dead weight in his hands, but Usopp could still feel the press of a thick thigh against him and in his fuddled mind he couldn’t help but think that the old man was a fighter.

Usopp then thought about being mad after realizing that this was second time he was manhandled that day, but he just felt tired.

He was set back on his feet after the three boys hurriedly sprinkled their flowers and he stayed up for a solid three seconds before he tilted, his body feeling heavy and distant. Mornin and Ninjin were at his side, holding him up and leading him back into the temple. Usopp was surprised to see there was still a sizable crowd outside the temple doors as he was dragged in.

The doors were closed to the shouts of worshipers, some calling out in worry, others in frenzy, and quite a few simply screaming his name.

“Can someone help carry him?”

Usopp was aware that he was leaning further and further towards the floor as the old priest and boy struggled to hold him up. With the thought of how nice the flowers looked against the floor, his feet were swept out from under him and he was cradled in someone’s arms.

It took Usopp a moment to realize that he had been, in fact, picked up off the ground. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, looking up at the person holding him to find a man with long red hair and an undercut, the left side of his face partially obscured by his long hair. Without thinking, Usopp raised one of his hands and pushed the hair away, watching with a detached interest as the man’s eyes widened before turning to the call of Mornin’s voice as the old man urged him to follow.

Usopp gave in to his exhaustion, head falling against the man’s shoulder guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading chapter one, I know that y'all wanna see the good stuff and I swear the next chapter gets a little more juicy! Please let me know what you think and what you want to see happen ;)


	2. A Taste Can't Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is here and ready to rumble!

Usopp woke up to a pounding in his head and a queasiness in his stomach that left a bad taste in his mouth.

He groaned pitifully, clutching at his stomach as he sat up.

“Oh, you’re awake?”

Usopp startled back, clutching at his blanket at the sight of the unfamiliar man in his room. Said man watched him curiously, sitting next to his pallet on a chair and giving Usopp a view of his long, lean legs.

After a few moments of watching him, the man stood up, walking to the door and opened it, calling out to what Usopp assumed was Mornin and Luigia as the two were quick to race in a tick later. The long-legged man closed the door behind him as he left.

“Usopp are you feeling better?” Luigia half-crawled on his bed, her old hand reaching out to brush his hair out of his face as she checked him over. “I told you we should have told him beforehand, the headdress was already a burden and then adding emotional turmoil to the mix was too much for him.”

Mornin huffed, rolling his eyes at the old woman.

“It’s tradition to announce new priests at festivals.”

Luigia clicked her tongue aggressively, the action more of a snap than anything, as she continued to coddle Usopp.

“Let’s get you out of this outfit, yeah?” Luigia voiced, the three silent as Mornin and Luigia unclipped the bells and removed the necklaces and bangles off of the tired god.

“How many?” Usopp finally broke the uneasy quiet, his voice hoarse and sounding pitiful even to his own ears. Luigia and Mornin looked at each other with unease, both urging the other the answer.

“Eight.” Mornin finally gave in, refusing to look Usopp in the eye as he organized the string of bells on his arm.

“Ei-” Usopp started, stopping to choke on the number. “ _Eight_?”

“God Usopp,” Luigia interrupted his freak out. Her face was serious as she fiddled with the anklets, fingers tracing the beads and flicking the bells. A frown creased her mouth, emphasizing the wrinkles there, and she worried at her lip before looking Usopp in the eyes. “We can’t provide for you like you deserve.”

“No-”

“ _Listen_ ,” the old woman held up her hand, her voice stripping Usopp of all words. “We have always been a small temple with little money and little free hands, but you’ve made a name for yourself. You’re rising up in ranks, becoming more than just a minor human god of misfortune. You have more followers than any god of misfortune in these parts probably ever has.”

Luigia paused when she saw the confusion on Usopp’s face.

“After the Gods Event, our village got an influx of people because of _you_. People who saw what you did and wanted to follow _you_.” Usopp shook his head, mouth opening but Luigia waved him off. “It’s true. The village’s sudden expansion is because so many people wanted to be closer to you and that means you finally have the worship count and flow to get real tithes, enough to support a better life.”

The old woman reached out, grabbing his hand.

“Mornin and I are getting old. We can’t care for you like we used to. The boys are good, but they were always alter boys; not meant to stay forever.” Luigia smiled softly at their clasped hands. “Of course, they love you so much that I don’t doubt they would decide to become full time priests.

“But you understand don’t you? With the increase in worshipers, we old folk can’t keep up. Plus, these men all want to follow you, to care for you. You helped them and they adore you.”

“What?” Usopp looked away from the old woman’s grasp on his hands, startled at the admission.

Mornin nodded his head, reaching forward and resting a hand on Usopp’s shoulder.

“Apparently you helped free them from some curse at the Gods Event. They came to us asking for a position to assist you.” Mornin moved closer, grabbing the other two’s joined hands with his free hand. “They aren’t like Kuro, they aren’t here with some grand plan to hurt all of us.”

Mornin rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, squeezing it to ground the younger man.

“We aren’t leaving you, either. We’ll still be here, we’ll still take care of you.” Mornin paused, continuing his ministrations. “We just...won’t be your main care.”

When Mornin said it like that, like some parent comforting their child, Usopp couldn’t help but feel both weak and fragile. There was a deepness in his chest that felt full to the brim, a softness that forced Usopp to realize the two people in front of him had been his parents for so long that he imagined what he was feeling was what kids felt when they left home.

The fullness reached up his throat and grabbed hold of his tongue, but he pulled the pair close to him, letting himself soak in their familiarity and take comfort in their existence.

He swallowed his fear, smiling at the two as he pulled away.

“I trust you.”

_______

Usopp had forgotten about the paint until he had been pulled off the bed and Luigia had stripped it down, pulling the sheets off of it and dragging them off to be cleaned of the red and gold smudges of paint flakes.

The god gave a sheepish grimace at the old woman before Mornin dragged him off to the baths. The sun was already down so Usopp was free to walk on the normal temple ground and he reveled in the cold stone under his soles.

Usopp had almost forgotten about the new priests until he entered the baths and saw two men waiting by the edge of the pool bath, both still wet from their own baths.

One was the same man who had been at his bedside and the other was a man with a long black ponytail, kohl lined eyes, and large shoulders. The latter looked vaguely annoyed as he kicked water at the blue haired man, said man using his long legs to easily counteract any waves.

Both men only wore the loose bathing cloths wrapped around their waists.

“Ah, God Usopp, this is Blue Gilly and Ideo, two of your new priests. Today they will help with washing.”

Usopp turned to the old man so fast he heard his neck give an audible snap, but he paid it no mind as he stared at the man in disbelief.

Mornin, in turn, placed a hand gently on Usopp’s arm and gave him a pointed look: _trust me_.

Usopp hesitated, biting his lip between his teeth gently, before nodding minutely, turning towards the two men as they climbed to their feet.

Neither attempted talk to him, which he was grateful for, but they followed Mornin’s commands obediently, which surprised Usopp as they both seemed like the independent type.

The dark haired man walked behind Usopp and tugged at the leather string at Mornin’s word, loosening the belt around his waist til it sat lower on his hips.

The god realized at that moment that he had never been naked in front of anyone but elderly priests and altar boys, categories neither of the men fit into. It sent a thrill of panic through him, his hands grasping the belt before his mind could reign in the action.

Both men stepped away from him almost on cue.

Their arms fell to their sides neither making a move to continue as they looked to Mornin, waiting to be told what they had done wrong. Mornin said nothing to any of their actions and instead waited until Usopp had evened out his breathing and let go of the belt again.

The hard metal landed on his hips, the narrow bone just holding it up but he could feel it slipping. He wrapped his arms around his waist to keep from grabbing it again, the desire to keep it up stronger than he had expected it to be.

“Do you want Ideo and I to step out?” It was the taller man who spoke, his own arms crossed over his chest. It didn’t sound like he was annoyed but Usopp still felt paranoid that he was already ruining in image in these men’s eyes, his gaze flickering to Mornin for support.

“If we make you uncomfortable we can try again another time. I know you don’t know us, so it’s normal to feel uneasy,” Ideo continued, turning towards the other man for agreement. “Right, Blue Gilly?”

The long legged man, Blue Gilly, nodded in reply.

Mornin inclined his head, giving Usopp the power to decide.

The god took a deep breath, closing his eyes. The nerves in his stomach loosening with the knowledge that he was in control.

He nodded at the two, raising his arms away from his body so it was easier for the two to pull the skirt off.

Which they did quickly. The men skidding the belt and cloth off his hips and down his thighs, letting it gather at his ankles.

Usopp tried to look anywhere but at the men, especially when Blue Gilly knelt to lift Usopp’s legs out of the pooled cloth and the 19 year old could feel his breath ghosting over his tense thighs.

After they finished putting the clothes away, Usopp seeing the missing pieces of his ensemble (notably the headdress which he assumed had been removed after he had fainted) already on the mannequin, the three returned to Usopp’s side. Mornin took his hand, leading him to the pool and helping him sink down into the water.

Usopp fiddled with his hands when the two men joined him, picking at his nails beneath the water’s surface to distract himself from the embarrassment.

He listened with half an ear as Mornin instructed them on the proper procedures, the old man producing a basket of various wash clothes and soaps, showing the men which ones to use where and when.

“This soap is specifically for removing paint - never use the same cloth to wash the face and the hands and feet. Take this,” Usopp watched from the corner of his eye as Mornin handed the cloth in his hand to Ideo, guiding the man by the wrist to Usopp’s face.

Usopp held as still as he could, his hands wringing unconsciously in his lap, head tilted up to assist as Ideo stroked the cloth over his forehead.

The touch was oddly gentle, like the man was holding himself back forcefully, and Usopp stared at a space over Ideo’s shoulder so he could try and school his features to hide his embarrassment. He could feel it not working as the heat in his face made it hard for him to keep his eyes from squinting.

Usopp was thankful when the cloth swiped towards his eyes, the relief of being able to close them sending a rush of warmth to his chest that threatened to pour out his throat in a sigh.

While Ideo worked, Blue Gilly was instructed to start on his hands. The tall man gripped his wrists in his own strong hands and rubbed his palms with more force than Ideo dared to on the god’s face, the result being Blue Gilly finishing one hand before Ideo completed half of the gold paint.

Ideo was slow going, the gentle drag of the cloth against Usopp’s face feeling oddly intimate. The entire experience feeling oddly intimate, in fact. The slide of the wet fabric against his skin, the soft puffs of breath fanning out across his cheeks, the firm yet soft grasp on his chin where Ideo was tilting Usopp’s head up.

All of it felt so close, too close, and it left the god breathless, trying desperately to control the trembling in his limbs.

When the cloth traveled to his lips, the pressure made him open both his eyes and mouth nearly instinctively. In the brief moment that their eyes met, the room grew smaller, the air more heated and Usopp couldn’t describe the weight he felt in his chest.

In the same moment, Blue Gilly finished with his other palm and shifted to the next step, his large hands gripping Usopp’s thigh and lifting it out of the water so he could reach the god’s feet.

It was the feel of Blue Gilly’s arms wrapping around his legs and the heated glance between the god and Ideo, combined with the pressure still on his lips that caused Usopp to gasp, the air rushing past his lips in a stuttering waver.

The noise was startling even to Usopp’s ears, the sound of himself too unfamiliar in terms of strangers. They weren’t supposed to hear his voice and even if sighing didn’t exactly count as speaking, it felt wrong and ugly.

He pushed Ideo away without a second thought, his hands resting on wide pectorals that made his mouth dry with an emotion that he refused to think about.

Ideo fell away easily, letting the god shove him without a fight while Blue Gilly loosened his grip on Usopp’s thigh, letting it fall back into the water but holding on to it still.

“God Usopp,” Mornin was kneeling behind him in moments, his hand feeling frail and old against his shoulder after the feel of the other two, and that stark contrast stilled his quick breathes.

He owed it to Mornin and Luigia to allow them to retire and usher in new priests. He couldn’t shy away from them, couldn’t push them away.

“Is it too much? We can stop, it’s fine if it’s too much too soon.” Mornin murmured in his ear. Despite the quietness of it, Usopp could tell that the two men could hear it too, and the god felt a brief moment of embarrassment.

He wasn’t weak.

Usopp looked straight ahead, watching the hazy steam from the bath shimmer the air, and shook his head.

It would be fine.

He would be fine.

_________

Usopp realized that he perhaps was quite weak.

Not physically (though he would admit that with the monsters that were a part of the Strawhat group with him, he wasn’t exactly the strongest person around), but mentally.

Dinner after the festival was quiet.

Nerve-wrackingly so.

The boys always went home before dinner, leaving Usopp alone with Luigia and Mornin and giving him the freedom to use his voice to relieve his stress by telling the two elderly priests stories about his travels with Luffy’s gang, both real and fake.

But now, the eight new priests were sitting uncomfortably at the table, forcing the god to hold his tongue, as they all sat in tense silence, the only sounds being their silverware scraping against their bowls.

With nothing better to do, Usopp studied the eight men.

Usopp sat higher than the others, his cushion more of a chair than the pillows they sat on, but he was still the shortest of the bunch - excluding the two old people of course.

He knew both Blue Gilly and Ideo - the god would even go so far as saying he knew them a little too well, but he had only been briefly introduced to the other eight.

The tallest was without a doubt the man who had been introduced as Hajrudin.

Usopp had recognized him immediately as the man who had picked him up that morning, raising him in the air and displaying him to the crowd of people. The god still didn’t know how to feel about that. It had been embarrassing and sudden, plus entirely against all protocol ever instilled into him since he had become a living god, but…

It had been exciting.

The feel of the man’s big hands around his chest, holding him up effortlessly, the clear adoration that had been in his voice when he had declared Usopp to the masses.

Even now, Usopp’s skin felt hot from his touch.

But there was a second pair of hands that had left their trail on his skin.

Hack appeared a lot older than he actually was because of his gray hair, but his muscle mass was something to be admired and his serious expression left a flutter high in the god’s chest. He was a lot more gentle than he looked, with a personality that Usopp had learned was rather austere.

The third man to have held him in so many hours (and wasn’t that an embarrassing thought), was called Boo.

There was a specific type of mortification Usopp got towards Boo, considering he had not only brushed the man’s hair out of his face like some cheesy romcom, but had also passed out in his arms.

Other than that, there wasn’t much Usopp could say about him. He was rather quiet, a little forlorn, like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

The last three - the blonds.

There was something specific about the three blond men, a kind of energy that felt a little too big. Usopp was surprised that none of them had been categorized as gods, even former ones, because they were bigger than the room’s atmosphere had to offer; their personalities clashing in an almost physical dominance play.

Two of them, the god had noticed, were royalty. The thin bands around their foreheads were telling of their station, though Usopp didn’t fail to notice that the younger, Cavendish, had a plain band that signified that he was disowned by his kingdom. The other man, Elizabello II, wore a thick, layered band - a king.

The thought made Usopp’s mouth dry.

What was a _king_ doing here?

The last blond was a hulking man with an intimidating mustache and braids, his face seemingly set in a permanent scowl.

Usopp had half a mind to be a little angry that all eight of the men were significantly taller than him. The only one to be even vaguely his size being Cavendish and he was still a good head taller than the god. But then Usopp decided he didn’t care enough, so he let it go with a purse of his lips and a judgemental stare that made all the men look away from him with lower gazes.

He tried to remember them from the Event, to remember why they were there and why Doflamingo would have had them silenced.

It didn’t take much to anger the former god - he had stuck his fingers in enough pies that you could anger him without ever meeting him in person - but Usopp couldn’t even fathom why these specific men were punished.

Or why they choose to honor him.

Usopp vaguely understood that he had freed them when he got rid of the green priestess but, in all honesty, his group had been the only ones on his mind. He remembered that Sugar’s powers left people forgotten, and that that thought had terrified him to his core. The thought of losing the others, the only people who seemed to even be _able_ to understand him, to lose _Luffy_ ….

It had been unbearable.

In all honesty, Usopp didn’t think he should be honored for what he did to Sugar.

It had been an act of fear.

A calculated and successful act of fear, but a fear induced heroism all the same.

It felt like it didn’t really count, like he shouldn’t get credit for it. It was just an extension of Luffy, really, a shot made to keep him from disappearing from Usopp’s eyes.

A **god of children and luck** was precious, even to the eyes of other gods. What did it matter if a **god of misfortune** made the shot?

It was always for Luffy, for his god.

_______________

Cavendish was a talker.

Usopp knew he, himself, had a bit of a motor mouth, a rambling problem that he never got to shake, just learned to silence until he was allowed to talk again.

But Cavendish?

He didn’t have an off switch.

Usopp was sure he never heard someone talk about themselves so much before in his life. It is actually incredibly interesting to see someone with so much confidence that was totally different from, say, Zoro or Sanji or Robin. They were all confident in this abilities, but there wasn’t a lot of bragging.

Usopp could see that even Heracles, a man who had an enormous amount of patience, start to unravel.

Well, unravel in Heracles’ terms.

The trainer didn’t get outwardly mad, but he did decide that all of the priests should definitely hold a tournament to decide their internal hierarchy, a decision that Mornin had tried unsuccessfully to counteract.

After a brief battle of wills, Heracles won from the sheer fact that he didn’t know Mornin was attempting to dissuade him, ever the airhead, and Mornin had given up in frustration.

But that was for the next week. Usopp’s problem at the moment was Heracles trying to get the priests to assist in the god’s own training.

It wasn’t until Usopp had found himself on his back with a blond prince between his legs, pushing his legs over his head until their lower halves were lined up, that he realized that it had been a terrible, _terrible_ idea.

Usopp looked anywhere but at Cavendish, struggling with himself to keep his arms from hiding his face in embarrassment as the other man talked a mile a minute with no indication that he was aware of Usopp’s complete and utter mortification.

“But, like, you agree don’t you?” Cavendish pressed his leg lower as he asked. The new priest pressed it much lower than he should have and Usopp had to shift his hips to allow the action to continue, the blond blinking in surprise as he realized his mistake. “Oh, you’re quite flexible aren’t you? That reminds me of when-”

Usopp made a choking noise as the other continued to ramble. He was sure his face was entirely red and was almost certain his lungs were going to give out at any moment.

Before he could sink into the earth, Cavendish was bodily picked up and removed.

Usopp let his legs fall back into place, the soreness in his inner thighs nothing to the relief of being freed from embarrassing himself beyond compare. He closed his legs, rolling onto his side and letting the cool dirt sooth the heat in his cheeks.

“God Usopp?” Turning towards the voice, Usopp saw Boo, Cavendish struggling fitfully in his arms, the blond twisted enough to get a foot in the other man’s face, but the larger man ignored him.

The man had a slight sheen of sweat over his bare chest and his hair was windswept from helping Heracles move the heavy equipment back to their proper places as they wrapped up the training. Boo’s brow was creased with worry for the god and Usopp wanted him in unwholesome ways in that moment. Perhaps it was the heat still felt in his thighs and the relief that flooded through him like the dulled pleasure that came from another action or even the look of the man after he had put his thick muscles to use, but he sat up from his position to appreciate the man more fully.

Usopp didn’t know what kind of expression he wore on his face, but whatever it was caused Boo to allow Cavendish to fall from his arms like a particularly feisty cat.

The blond landed easily on his feet, but he spat choice words at the taller man all the same as he stalked away, a jerky goodbye thrown at Usopp as Cavendish went off to lick his metaphorical wounds.

Usopp watched him walk away briefly before leaning back on his hands and looking up at Boo through the curls that had fallen in front of his face, trying to ignore the rising embarrassment bubbling in his stomach as the immediate heat started to dim down. He knew he was being too forward, and the look of confusion in Boo’s eyes made him hesitate, the embarrassment engulfing him again, filling him up to the brim until the arousal was completely extinguished.

A flood of shame passed through him, both for trying to come onto the man, a near stranger, and for the man’s lack of reaction. Usopp curled into himself, his knees drawing up and his arms wrapping around his legs to shield him from the humiliation that came from his weak seduction attempts.

Boo floundered at his reaction, Usopp seeing his confusion from the corner of his eye, the man’s mouth opening and closing as he tried to find words to comfort the god, his eyes trying to find some problem that needed to be fix or some clue as to what was wrong.

Finally, he dropped to a knee and reached out, hesitating briefly, before touching the god’s face with a gentleness that smashed the god’s embarrassment to pieces. A large thumb swept across his cheek, wiping the dirt off, and Boo threw an unsure smile at Usopp, still not certain what the problem was but willing to provide assistance.

“Are you in pain?”

Usopp, of course, didn’t reply, but he leaned his cheek into the man’s palm, shaking his head as he pushed down the emotions that bubbled and twisted in his stomach like snakes.

“Final stretches!” Heracles, ever dense, pushed on, startling Usopp who had forgotten the other man was still in the courtyard. “Arms!”

Heracles caught Usopp’s eyes before coming towards the pair, bending down to look at Usopp before speaking.  

“It’s time for me to go, Usopp’n, but you can handle it from here, correct?” The god nodded in reply, self-conscious of his seat on the floor and Boo’s hand still touching his face. Heracles didn’t say anything about the situation, but he did laugh uproariously as he jauntered away. Usopp knew that the reaction was more the man’s personality than anything, but he still hid his face in Boo’s large palm.

When the two of them were left alone in the courtyard, Usopp felt the pressure of _something_ , though he didn’t know what. There was some unknown sharpness in the air that both of them left unsaid.

Boo finally gave a sheepish smile before standing up from his knelt position and circling around the god.

He sat down heavily behind him, mimicking the stretches Heracles had demonstrated earlier by wrapping himself around the smaller man and manipulating his body, twisting his back and pulling his arms.

Despite the fact that Usopp was used to those types of exercises, having been Heracles’ student for quite awhile, it felt different with Boo. He was too new, too inexperienced.

Usopp found himself guiding the stretches more than the other man, trying to gently push him into the correct positions.

It made Usopp feel some type of way, that was for sure.

It did calm him enough, though, that the mortification-induced nausea subsided and the dull heat started back up, the press of his back against the man’s chest leaving a warmth radiating through him that lulled him into a relaxed state.

He tried to subtly slide back, seeking the heat out, searching for more of the man to press against him. When he was successfully engulfed, Usopp leant his head back, letting it rest on Boo’s chest. He breathed deeply through the arm and torso stretches, the dull throb in his thighs lessened enough that he could put them in their proper place, flush to Boo’s own.

It was undeniably embarrassing, of course, but he tried to let the familiarity of it calm him.

It worked, for the most part, and Usopp felt his mind start to fuzz and before he knew it, he was asleep.

______________________

Usopp woke up to quiet arguing.

He blinked blearily, freezing when he realized he was in someone’s arms, _again_.

He was getting real sick and tired of that.

“ _You_ have to go do your duties.”

“I am almost entirely certain that all of our duties center around God Usopp, so your reasoning is invalid.”

“ _Invalid-_ ”

“Listen, both of you, just take him to bed. It doesn’t matter which one of you does it.” The voice sounded tired, as if the man was fed up with the fight but had no energy to even feel annoyed. Usopp easily recognized the voice as Boo, the man somewhere to his left. “Cavendish, you already abandoned your duties today, so just give this up.”

“Wait, does it or does it _not_ matter? You can’t say it both does not matter but then pick a side. It’s unfair.” The ‘to me’ was left unsaid, but everyone else could feel it hang in the air nonetheless.

Boo gave an exhausted sigh and then the clear sounds of struggling prevailed as, what Usopp assumed to be Boo hauling the other man off if Cavendish’s shouts were any indication.

The person holding Usopp snorted before carrying him away.

Usopp realized his mistake as he took in the gentle swaying of the man’s walk, as he had clearly missed the opportunity to 1) make it known that he was awake and 2) ask to be let down.

He could, of course, _still_ do that, but it felt too awkward at this point so instead the god forced himself to relax against what was a very naked and broad chest with a frown.

The observation helped him in exactly zero ways, as it seemed the majority of the new priests had a bad habit of not bothering to wear shirts under their robes and letting said robes hang open as if they were trying to tempt some celibate god into intercourse.

 If Usopp’s reaction that evening had been any indication, it was working too.

The gentle sway and warm skin under his cheek was lulling and Usopp found himself once again drifting off, though he didn’t nod off all the way. His mind was too busy running over the new priests, worrying in a offhanded way about his future, _their_ future.

It wasn’t the sickening panic from earlier, but rather the soft consideration of what could be and what had been.

He was brought out of his contemplation by a pair of thick arms lowering him.

Reasonably, Usopp knew that he was being placed on his bed, but Luigia’s face flashed behind his eyes as he removed his paint stained sheets to be washed and he was suddenly aware of his dirty appearance. With no conscious thought, the god’s arms rose and wrapped tightly around a solid neck.

There was a moment of tense silence in which Usopp cursed himself seven times to hell.

“God Usopp?” Usopp couldn’t contain a jerk of his body as he was addressed. The distant hope that the other man would have just let it slide crumbling as if there had been any chance he would have gotten away with pretending to still be asleep after clinging pitifully to the man’s throat.

Speaking of, the deep gruff of the man’s voice was easier to hear now, and Usopp was almost certain it was Orlumbus. In a moment of pure curiosity, Usopp loosened his arms enough to lean back and get a look at the man’s face.

He felt his lips tilt in a smile at seeing the man’s rough, mustached face appear in his line of sight.

His satisfaction at being right was quickly overshadowed by the knee pressing against his lower back and he was reminded of their current predicament.

Orlumbus had apparently gotten down on a knee to set the god in his bed, and Usopp was being held up by a helpful arm underneath him and another wrapped securely around his waist. The blond’s face was closer than he expected, but Usopp didn’t bother moving as he had nowhere to go.

He didn’t want to be placed on the clean sheets, but he was very aware that there wasn’t many options in expressing that since he still wasn’t allowed to talk to any of the new priests.  

Orlumbus was still looking at him pointedly, a question reflected in his light eyes.

Before Usopp could make any indication, Orlumbus was already making moves to lay him down again.

He reacted the same way, hoping it would at least stop the other man, but all it did was cause the man to go down with him.

Feeling the sheets press against his dirt-smeared back, Usopp sighed against Orlumbus’s neck in defeat, allowing his arms to loosen and fall next to his head.

The bigger man pulled back, his face creased with confusion.

“What’s wrong?” Usopp tried to wave the question away, turning his face to the side so he didn’t have to look at the man hovering above him and calm the warm spike in the pit of his stomach, but Orlumbus moved with him, intent on getting an explanation.

Usopp looked back at the man briefly before looking away in embarrassment, as seemed to be his base reaction now, and motioned towards the bed and himself.

The action seemed to help zero percent as the man’s heavy brows only creased further in confusion.

Usopp sighed again, tapping on his own lips to direct the man’s attention to them as he mouthed as slowly as he could.

“Dirty?” The blond’s eyes flickered up to his own and despite the fact that the distance between them hadn’t changed, he suddenly felt too close. Orlumbus shifted his weight onto one hand as he lifted the other and touched Usopp’s face.

His touch was softer than Usopp expected and he swept his thumb across his cheek with what the god could recognize as devotion. “I don’t think you can be dirty.”

Not, “I _didn’t_ think a god could be dirty,” not “It’s _strange_ that a god can be dirty”.

Just, “I don’t think _you_ can be dirty”.

Usopp’s teeth sank into his lip against his will, the heat rising so fast to his face that he felt dizzy.

Orlumbus’s thumb, which had been trailing over his cheekbone, pulled at the skin until his lip pulled free from his teeth and the touch was so gentle and intimate that Usopp found himself for the second time that day _wanting_ someone.

Before the feeling could disappear underneath his anxiety, Usopp grabbed Orlumbus’s hand and pressed it more fully against his cheek, chasing after that softness and feeling weak for it but not caring. He could feel the man’s breath against his face, the warmth of his body above him, and he was so starved for touch that Usopp reveled in it.

“What do you want me to do?” Usopp opened his eyes, taking in the blown out pupils under heavy set brows.

What _did_ he want?

He followed the line of Orlumbus’s neck with his eyes, taking in the dips and hard lines of a body packed completely with muscle. Boo had a strong body too, but one padded with a layer of insulation that allowed for a softer press whereas Orlumbus was all edges and firmness.

It made the god’s mouth water.

With hesitation, Usopp raised one of his hands, watching Orlumbus’s eyes as he slowly touched the center of the man’s chest. When Orlumbus made no move to pull away or any outward signs of discomfort Usopp trailed his hand lower, feeling the full extent of the man’s chest and letting his fingers run along the hard lines.

Usopp raised the second one, dragging them both down Orlumbus’s wide chest with no little amount of satisfaction. His pecs were so big that they pressed together and Usopp wanted nothing more than the push his face between the two and bask in a muscular heaven, but he held himself back with the knowledge that he had to show at least a speck of dignity. Instead, he let his fingers trace the man’s ribs and wondered how even those could feel like steel beneath the god’s fingertips.

He felt a tremor rack his own body when he pressed against the claw marks under the other man’s left pectoral, his breath catching in his throat.

“Can I kiss you?”

_‘Oh, **can** you?’_ Usopp thought, nearly hysterical with want, the surprise at the question so overshadowed with the god’s desire that he ignored it completely. _‘Yes, I’ve just met this man, and yes I can not even talk to him yet, but surely... **surely** there is no harm in letting this go on a little more.’_

So Usopp raised himself up, meeting Orlumbus halfway, and pressed their lips together.

It was like a coil was cut and suddenly Usopp’s entire body relaxed, even though he could not remember it ever being tense. The god sighed against Orlumbus’s mouth, brows creasing in what he could only name as relief with an underlay of desperation.

It felt _good_.

More than good - it felt _right_.

Usopp brought Orlumbus’s face closer, drawing the other man nearer to him until their chests pressed against each other. The slight burn of the blond’s mustache and the plaited hair in Usopp’s fists made the feeling that much more real as they fumbled about on Usopp’s bed.

The god could feel his own desperation in his kissing, the frantic way his lips slid against the other man’s, but he couldn’t find the time to care about that and it was clear that rather than being put off by it, Orlumbus was more than happy to match the god.

The larger man gave back even more than Usopp gave until the two had moved past close-mouthed kisses and Usopp could feel the man’s tongue swipe tentatively at the opening of his lips.

The god pulled back to look at the man, feeling his arms around Usopp’s back, one of his large palms embedded in the curls at the back of his neck gently, not pulling, just playing with the black mass.

He leaned forward, holding the man’s jaw carefully as he pressed his own lips back against his slowly, wanting to savor the languid motion while he still had the capacity to. Orlumbus stayed still as Usopp ran his tongue over his mouth, letting the god do as he pleased.

Usopp pulled back again when he finished, freeing one of his hands from around Orlumbus’s neck and pushing his own hair out of face, the black curls breaking free of the careful ponytail Luigia had wrestled it into that morning.

“Do you know how good you look right now?” The words caught Usopp off guard, the deep voice thick with an emotion Usopp knew, but didn’t want to name. When their eyes met, Usopp’s legs trembled and he was glad he wasn’t standing because he would have surely fallen to his knees with the look in the other man’s eyes. “I wish I could keep you for myself, but that is not how godhood works, is it?”

Usopp wished Orlumbus would stop asking him questions the man knew he couldn’t answer.

Before he could make any motion in response, Orlumbus’s lips were on his again, open-mouthed and full of such heat that the god was sure he was going to burn alive. The tongue pressed inside his mouth was overwhelming in the most perfect way and their tongues intertwined together and pulled apart like lovers dancing.

The larger man’s arms constricted around him like a snake, trying to pull Usopp closer until there was no room left between the two, and Usopp had to hold back from pressing their lowers halves together to complete that mission.

Usopp was breathing Orlumbus in, feeling every crevice of his body and every groan on his lips, until the god wasn’t sure where the two actually began and ended.

Just as soon as it had started, it was over.

Orlumbus pulled away rapidly, as if some force was pushing him away, and Usopp tried to reach out for him, to pull him back, but the larger man just grabbed his hands in his much, much larger ones and pressed a kiss to them as he climbed off the cot.

“I still have duties to do; I cannot manipulate all of your time. I will see you again at diner.” And just like that, he was out the door, leaving a breathless god in his wake.

 Usopp’s lips poised to remind Olumbus that _he_ was the man’s duties and he should be doing _him_ , but the words didn’t form on his tongue, thankfully, before the man left.

He leaned back more fully on the bed, his body sagging in annoyance at having the most action he’d seen in a long time cut short for no real reason.

Usopp traced his lips with an index finger, feeling the lingering swelling and tenderness, and closed his eyes, pretending it was Orlumbus caressing his face. He stopped when the thought became too depressing and let his hand flop to the bed, staring up at the roof and trying to ignore the remembered filth covering his body that was starting to make him squirm and itch.

“God Usopp,” Usopp looked up at the doorway to see Blue Gilly leaning against the frame, an ever-present grin settled on his lips, “Bath time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this chapter and please give me some comments on what you liked and want to see because I'm McFUCKING dying irl rn, lmaonade


	3. And Then the Lost Wanderer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes, there is finally some actually sex and, yes, i know that it is not who anyone was expecting to be first but LISTEN
> 
> Shout out to my beta, owl_beans as per use

As the god expected, “bath time” turned out to be incredibly awkward and embarrassing.

Usopp was almost certain that Blue Gilly had caught him and Orlumbus making out, and if that wasn’t bad enough by itself, the man seemed to be set on teasing Usopp further.

The god was glad to know that Mornin no longer felt the need to oversee his bathing, but that only saved him from the embarrassment of having to hide his attraction from the old man, not the objects of his attraction.

Usopp tried to sink lower into the water at that thought - _objects_. Multiple.

Eight.

He splashed a handful of water on his face and tried to vigorously rub away the thoughts.

Once upon a time, his mind had been firmly set on Kaya (though if he was honest with himself, he still did dream that she would come back to him), then his attention had swung to Luffy before he realized that ship would never sail, before landing on Zoro.

He had never felt anything for more than one person at a time, his focus swinging like a compass, hoping and waiting for his hook to grab onto someone who was equally as interested.

The closest he had gotten to was Zoro.

The swordsman wasn’t an ideal partner, for obvious reasons, but he had been good to Usopp. He had let the other god latch onto him when Luffy had been too caught up with everything but love and allowed Usopp to have something of what he craved. He didn’t pretend to be in love with him, and Usopp had no delusions that the man ever would be, but he had given him a taste of what it could be like to be in a relationship, had shown him the more physical side of companionship that went well beyond Luffy’s skinship.

Yet, despite his meager love life, here Usopp was, enraptured by eight men at the same time. Absolutely absurd.

“God Usopp, you shouldn’t do that. There are specialized cloths just to clean your face - you don’t need to do it yourself.” Usopp pulled his hands away to glare at the other man. There was a taunting quality to Blue Gilly’s voice and Usopp knew he wasn’t the only one to catch it as Ideo visibly bristled at the words, though he made no comment of his own.

Instead of becoming used to having the two men bathing him, Usopp was progressively getting worse. The longer they stayed in his temple, the closer he felt to them yet the stranger their touches became.

Usopp didn’t know if it was purposeful, but he definitely guessed that it wasn’t all accidental. He was sure Blue Gilly at the very least was attempting to win his affections.

And it was working.

Already high strung from Orlumbus and certain that Blue Gilly knew of their actions, Usopp was sitting rimrod straight in the bath, jaw set in preparation to fight if Blue Gilly made one word about it.

So far, the long legged man had kept the incident off of his tongue, but his actions were getting increasingly bold.

It would be a lie to say that the god disliked the attention, but he definitely didn’t like what it said about him - what it said about their _view_ of him.

He wasn’t stupid and he knew that quite a few gods were…unashamed of their behaviors, but Usopp wasn’t experienced enough to even comprehend having multiple flings, especially with people who lived with him. The thought of Blue Gilly thinking of him as loose made something ugly bubble in his stomach and he knew it was the assumption he hated. The assumption that Usopp could use his godhood to seduce and flirt was so unfounded it hurt.

He was willing to admit that he _wanted_ to be like that. He _wished_ he was suave and charismatic, that he could convince people to get into his bed, but the truth of the matter was that he was clumsy and awkward and shy. He was scared of talking to people and though he had come a long way from how he used to be, he wasn’t a Sanji. The only person he’d ever even gotten into his bed had been Zoro and that was only because it had been taken out of his hands by one too many drunken nights.

Usopp wasn’t used to the attention of so many men. Even as a god, he was _unpopular_. So the thought of any of his new priests thinking he had any sort of ability under his belt was painful because it wasn’t _true_.

“God Usopp,” Ideo’s hands stilled from where they were wiping at the god’s throat causing Usopp to looked away from his glare at the wall to see the man frowning at him. “If you want me to kill him, I will.”

His face was so serious that Usopp couldn’t contain a surprised laugh, the sound so startling to his own ears that he had to press a hand against his mouth to stop anymore from following.

“You couldn’t kill me even if you wanted to.” Blue Gilly shot back, but there was a self-satisfied smile on his lips as the two both crowded closer to their god.

Ideo ignored the blue-haired man and instead pulled Usopp’s hand away from his face, a crease between his brows.

“If anything is wrong, you can let me-“

“Us!”

“-know and I’ll get rid of any problem.”

There was a truth in Ideo’s kohl-lined eyes, the firmness of his face stopping Usopp in his tracks, stilling his breath as he recognized that Ideo _would_.

The god gripped Ideo’s wrist lightly, giving him a smile that Usopp hoped would express his gratitude.

Ideo leaned closer, his eyes hard as he searched the god’s face, looking for any sign that Usopp needed help. He backed off when he saw nothing of the sort, though he was reluctant to allow his hand to drop out of the god’s grasp.

“Listen, I think we can safely say that any of us here would do anything for God Usopp - we wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t the case.” Blue Gilly hadn’t moved back with the other man but Usopp couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed. “Though, I do think some of us are more capable than others. Say those who may spend more time staring at gods than ensuring there are no enemies nearby for instance. Not a very good bodyguard, though a very thorough wash-hand.”

Ideo sputtered at what was clearly a stab at him before the two started battling towards the center of the pool.

Usopp was content watching the two, glad to have some time to settle himself.

He was so focused on the play fight, that it took the god a few minutes to comprehend that Blue Gilly was implying that Ideo was mooning after him.

After that, it was a little harder to watch the two tangling around each other.

__________________________

A week later found Usopp frustrated out of his mind and cursing his trainer for his bold and idiotic ideas.

Who would have thought that 7 days of sexual frustration as he was waited on hand and foot by eight attractive men culminating in watching said men fight before him, covered in sweat and shining in the morning light, would give Usopp more trouble than relief?

It, of course, didn’t help that Heracles decided that a Free-for-All fight was the most appropriate. This meant that instead of seeing two men slide slickly against each other, he had to watch all eight go at it at once.

He was, for once, appreciative of the layered clothes he had to wear because it would be very obvious that he appreciated the men in more ways than just their combat abilities.

And how _different_ each of their combat abilities were.

The men most formative with brute strength -Orlumbus, Hajrudin, and Elizabello - were distracting enough with their large frames, but seeing them pick up and toss their opponents had the god trying desperately to not make outward noises of appreciation, especially since he knew the strength beneath each of their hands after countless times being picked up and carried around like an adorned doll.

Those mastering specialized fighting - Ideo, Hack, Boo, and Blue Gilly - had their own...perks.

Watching each use techniques that couldn’t easily be copied, moves that obviously took years of training and practice for was...for lack of better words, amazing.

Watching the men finally let loose and use their skills made Usopp’s chest tighten with an emotion that wasn’t entirely pleasant.

He enjoyed it, yes. He liked seeing how skillful they all were, liked seeing how much they enjoyed showing their strengths, but it _hurt_ to see.

It hurt to know that Usopp was holding them back.

They didn’t belong serving a poor god. They didn’t belong serving any god at all. Priesthood didn’t fit them, didn’t suit them. They weren’t terrible at it, they were very competent, but it wasn’t their calling and the longer Usopp watched the fight, the more he was sure it wasn’t right to keep them with him.

Though he was willing to admit that he wanted them no where but where they were right then. Usopp was perfectly fine admitting he was selfish enough to want that at least.

He was a god wasn’t he? He could ask for that.

Usopp was distracted from his internal musings by Cavendish pushing back against one of Boo’s axes, the sight impressive enough to grab hold of the god’s complete attention.

Cavendish, surprisingly, was showing himself to be much more formidable than first expected.

He was tall with nice muscles, but he definitely didn’t fit the first category of pure muscle wall. His technique was impressive, but it focused on his handling with a sword rather than a manipulation of his body like the second category. Either way, he was holding his own against the seven other men with little difficulty.

Usopp was surprised to find he enjoyed watching the blond’s quick reflexes and interesting swordwork. He was used to Zoro’s sword fighting - brutal and deadly; a very different style than the ex-prince’s.

With his focus on Cavendish completely, the god didn’t miss the faltering in the blond’s footwork, or the man suddenly collapsing, but he didn’t miss the torrent that ran through the duel, leaving the rest of the men on the ground.

The incident was so quick that it took Usopp a few seconds to register what happened and by the time he had stood up in shock as it slowly pushed threw his brain that his priests had all fallen, he was pressed back into his seat by a firm grip.

The mask that greeted him was terrifying. Eyes that were completely white and a mouth that stretched into a black void of a grin - it wasn’t a sight that anyone would be happy to find right in front of their face and Usopp was no exception.

“God Usopp!” Both Mornin and Luigia raced up the dais but Usopp raised a hand to stop them, gripping the wrist on his shoulder to keep the thing from turning towards the old people. It was fear that moved him, fear for the two elders’ safety, but fear all the same. He had no voice to speak with and he could feel his hand trembling where he latched onto the swordsman.

“Usopp’n!” The god could hear Heracles thundering across the field, but his eyes were stuck on the white face inching closer to his own. The open-mouthed grin that was settled seemed to grow, but the god wasn’t sure if that was due to it coming towards him or the creature actually moving its face.

Before either Heracles or the god could make any further movements, the white mask creased in a scowl and then it was broken.

It was Cavendish that fell in the thing’s place, his unconscious body sagging against Usopp who was too shocked to move.

There was nothing like pure fear to get rid of any lingering lust.

_______________

Usopp refused to come out of his room for three days.

He knew it was petty, perhaps even selfish, and just downright cowardly, but the god couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He had known that the men were strangers, that he knew nothing about them, but to see it? To have it set before his eyes that he was ignorant of who they were, of what kind of threats they posed, of what kind of situations they came from? It was more than eye opening.

He knew that neither Mornin nor Luigia would purposefully put him in harm’s way, but they couldn’t be expected to know everything either. They could vet as much as they wanted but there would always be something that slipped through the cracks.

So Usopp has done the only thing he could think to do: run away from the problem.

The god denied entrance to anyone who wasn’t Mornin or Luigia and refused to leave his quarters.

It was a shock - he had let himself get swept away so easily by their attention, by their admiring looks and pretty words that he had forgotten who he was.

A god of misfortune.

A lowly mistake of a god. One meant to be avoided and shunned because no amount of lucky shots against bigger gods could hide the fact that he was a bringer of misfortune. An absent father, a dead mother, an ailing love - he wasn’t meant to be cherished and praised and adored.

“God Usopp,” the muffled voice followed a brief knocking on the door. Usopp recognized it as Luigia so he turned to listen to whatever the old woman had to say. “You have a visitor.”

“Tell them to go away.” The god responded immediately before flopping back onto his bed and covering himself with his blanket.

The old woman was silent before the unmistakable creaking of the old door opening sounded through the room and Usopp tensed, waiting for Luigia to come closer and try and tempt his out of his hiding once more. Instead, his bed shook with the force of a weight falling on it.

Usopp was still for a moment, stunned, before he popped up and turned to see who had landed on his bed.

“ _Zoro_?”

The swordsman was leaning back on top of the sheets, arms crossed behind his head and his one good eye closed. His only response to Usopp’s shocked mumbling of his name was a grunt.

“Zoro, what are you even doing here?” Despite his words, Usopp could hear the underlying excitement in his own voice.

“Sleeping.”

Usopp watched the other man in contemplation before flopping back down next to him and scooting as close as he could to lay his head on Zoro’s impressive biceps.

The swordsman wrapped an arm around the other god and the two fell asleep.

_____________

Zoro’s headstrong and laid back personality meant Usopp was tossed back into the ring before he really wanted to.

The god of lost wanderers wanted a bath and wanted food and wanted to sword fight and he didn’t plan to stay and sleep in Usopp’s bed forever. Admittedly, he did sleep in Usopp’s bed for quite a long time, but as soon as he was up, he was dragging the other man out of bed with him.

On the way to the bath, the two gods passed Hack and Elizabello II. The priests in training hugged the wall as the green haired god plowed forward with little regard to those in his way.

An emotion flooded Usopp’s chest when his eyes met Hack’s that tore at him painfully and aggressively. It felt like he couldn’t look away fast enough, a coldness washing through to cover the pain.

It was irrational and _irritating_.

He clutched at Zoro’s hand tighter, increasing his pace so that he was closer to the other god.

It felt safer with him. _Natural_.

Even if he was a cursed god, Zoro was a stronger god. He wasn’t like the priests or worshipers - people who would leave when they realized he was nothing more than a blight.

Cavendish had scared him, Usopp wasn’t going to lie.

But it wasn’t just the fact that it was strangers who came into his life, it was the reminder that not only did he not know them, but that they didn’t know him.

They came because he had saved them, but he wasn’t anything amazing and they would see that soon.

They would leave him soon.

Before he could drown in his emotions, he was tugged headlong into his pool-sized bath. Not for the first time in his life, Usopp was glad the temple’s bath was as big as it was.

He came up sputtering and coughing, a wave washing over him as soon as he came up as Zoro’s jumped in after him.

It felt like forever since the last time he took a bath without someone else washing him, a feeling that Zoro’s wouldn’t be able to comprehend as a mobile god who was used to popping into random people’s homes and helping himself to their facilities.

Usopp couldn’t help but compare his life to Zoro’s.

The other god had a wildly different way of living with godhood. He traveled - or more accurately, wandered - across the land and sea, people willingly giving him beds to sleep on, food to feast on, and baths to wash in with the hopes that if they ever find themselves lost, they’d find safety and hospitality in turn. His worshipers happened upon him unexpectedly and thankfully, the god finding no shortage of people to desire his appearance.

His priests, on the other hand, seemed overwhelmingly put upon. A god of lost wanderers, understandably, was lost for the majority of always and festivals were impossible to plan.

Thinking of the two rather idiotic priests, Usopp turned to Zoro.

“Where are Yosaku and Johnny?”

The green haired man paused in his scrubbing to think before shrugging unhelpfully.

“Lost, probably.”

“You didn’t follow them did you.” Usopp sighed, a statement more than a question. Zoro didn’t have the tact to look ashamed but he didn’t disagree outright, opting to grunt to show his disapproval at the wording.

Usopp couldn’t keep a fond smile off his face and he slid closer to the other god, wrapping himself around his back and feeling the ridges of his muscles against his forearms.

He sighed contentedly, rubbing his forehead against Zoro’s back just to feel the other man more. Usopp could feel the suds slipping down the swordsman’s chest as he continued to wash himself as if the darker man hadn’t attached himself like an octopus.

The heat that had evaporated so suddenly after the tournament was creeping back up through his stomach, gripping his chest with a warmth that made him put himself flush against Zoro’s back until it felt like there was no more water separating any piece of their skin.

Usopp slid his arms further down, letting them hang around the other’s waist; hesitating not from uncertainty but rather a desire for explicit reciprocation.

The darker man could feel Zoro’s muscles tense as his movements stopped. Before he could take another breath, the swordsman was twisting in Usopp’s grasp so that they were chest to chest and picking him up by his thighs.

The startelement was short lived on Usopp’s part as he realized that he was getting what he wanted.

Zoro’s lips were on his - harsher and more familiar than Orlumbus’s had been. There was a practiced ease and a mutual hunger that spoke to the fact that their actions were not only relief-seeking, but also routine and expected.

It was nice.

It was _safe_.

Usopp knew where to put his hands, knew how to tangle his tongue with Zoro’s, knew how hard to push their hips together. He wasn’t scared of looking desperate, because he _was_ desperate and he knew that Zoro knew that too.

When he felt the swordsman’s hands drift, their lips breaking as he set Usopp on the edge of the pool and dragging the soap basket closer, he knew what was coming, what to expect, and shifted to allow better access.

Zoro uncorked an oil bottle with his teeth, dumping the contents directly onto the other god’s dick as Usopp tried to keep balance by hooking his heels over Zoro’s hips. He thought briefly about the hilarity of using holy oil as lube, before it was drowned out by Zoro’s tongue on his neck and his thick, calloused fingers tracing around his ass.

The first finger entering felt like a floodgate opening, the relief at finally - _finally_ \- going far enough for penetration was overwhelming, and despite the discomfort, it took all of Usopp’s willpower to do more than lay back limply on the floor and let Zoro do whatever he wanted with him. He tugged his hands through the swordsman’s hair, pulling him closer and maneuvering his head so that the darker man could mouth at his ear, taking his gold earrings in his mouth and tugging at them with his teeth.

Zoro huffed a laugh near his ear and the heat of his breath spreading across Usopp’s sensitive skin made the heat pulling in his stomach tighten until he had to press his knees against Zoro’s ribs to relieve some of the pressure.

The green haired god’s hands traveled down Usopp’s body, the rough palms, more used to gripping swords than caressing soft skin, felt like they were stroking the fire beneath his flesh. Zoro pulled away from Usopp’s neck, mouthing after the trail his hands left as he lifted the other god’s legs with a firm grip on his thighs to allow him better access to the stiff dick between them.

The mouth enveloping him was accompanied by a second finger pressing inside him. Usopp pressed his thighs around Zoro’s ears, one hand gripping green hair for dear life as the other tangled in his own dark curls as he focused on the sensations.

It felt like forever, yet mere seconds as well, before Zoro pulled off, a thin line of saliva connecting his lips to the tip of Usopp’s dick for a precious moment that had the younger god licking his own lips in appreciation, and pulled his fingers out after a careful assurance that the stretching had been enough.

Usopp’s legs slide off the other’s shoulders, coming to hook around Zoro’s waist again, pulling the other roughly towards him. The swordsman grunted in annoyance as he maneuvered himself so he could line up with the impatient marksman, holding Usopp’s thighs open with one hand and guided his own dick to the darker man’s entrance.

Usopp watched intently, his own hands gripping the back of his knees, teeth biting into his lower lip. All the tension in his body seemed to release when Zoro finally pushed inside.

Usopp’s back arched up and he let go of his knees, letting Zoro handle his lower half as he moved to cover his face with his arms. Zoro fucked him deep and hard, his movements systematic and uniform in their force and angle. It was a rhythm that Usopp knew well.

Zoro’s hands had moved from holding his legs to gripping his hips, fingers digging into Usopp’s lower back and using the leverage to fuck the other man on his dick. Usopp tried to position himself to be of some assistance before giving up and sitting up to wrap his arms around Zoro’s neck.

The swordsman, undeterred, picked the other god up fully, using his grip to fuck Usopp down on his dick as much as he fucked up into him.

________________________

Dinner was more awkward than it would have been had Blue Gilly and Ideo not decided to walk into the bathing room when Zoro and Usopp were fucking.

In their defense, it was their job to assist with bathing and dressing Usopp, but that didn’t make it less embarrassing.

The pair had opted to drop the god’s clothes in a basket and retreat when Zoro pointed them to do so, Usopp too shocked to do more than bury himself in the swordsman’s neck.

Zoro had convinced Usopp to finish what they started, perhaps a little too easily for Usopp’s pride, and then the two had dressed.

You would think someone had died with how quiet the room was.

Usopp gave up his seat as the head to Zoro, a courtesy expected of templed gods to traveling ones. They moved from the high table and chairs that Usopp preferred, to the low table and cushions, the head position the only place with a chair-like structure made of stacked pillows, as Zoro preferred. He poured the wine into Zoro’s cup, replaced the bread on his small plate every time he finished one, cut off a portion of his meat and gave it to Zoro - everything that was expected of him, yet he couldn’t help but feel like he was doing something wrong with how tense his priests were.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Luigia and Mornin nodded at him encouragingly every time he looked to them in uncertainty, he would have thought he was committing some grave faux pas despite the fact that he had been doing these chores his whole life.

Zoro, the thick-headed brute, noticed nothing. He ate his meal calmly, the quiet being something he prefered so he took no interest in the cause of it or the atmosphere.

It wasn’t until he held his cup out purposefully to Usopp for a refill, that the silence was disrupted.

“I’ll pour it.”   Elizabello II clamoured to his feet from Usopp’s left-hand side, reaching across the table to grab the pitcher with more force than necessary, the red liquid sloshing over the rim and onto the table.

Usopp half stood on his knees, an indignant cry on his tongue before Zoro waved him off, holding his cup out to the priest instead.  

It was obvious that Zoro didn’t give two shits about the formalities of the gathering - he knew the rights and wrongs purely because he had lived in the system for long enough, but he didn’t push or pull for the rules to be followed. He was content getting his due - a bath, a bed, some food. Everything else was noise.

He knew Usopp followed them more stringently as a templed god - the restrictions and rituals more tight and strict when one lived surrounded by priests in a single environment than when traveling, so he let the other man do what pleased him, never demanding he stop on account of their friendship.

The new priests, however, clearly were less informed on the formalities expected of not only themselves, but their god as well.

Zoro could see the stiff lines of their shoulders and the tightness of their jaws as they watched him with spite and no little amount of fury, and knew that they cared deeply about the marksman, to the point of being borderline heretical.

Elizabello II poured the wine messily into Zoro’s cup, his demeanor telling of one more used to being served than serving. When he sat back down, Luigia reached across the table with her cane to smack the blond over the head, her old face wrinkled even more in vexed anger.

Zoro looked over the rim of his drink at Usopp, the smaller god’s lips thinned in restrained annoyance. He could tell the marksman wanted to talk - whether to voice his opinion or just to have a conversation, he couldn’t tell, but the swordsman knew Usopp well enough to know that the silence was killing him.

He didn’t understand templed gods completely. The rules and regulations wildly different than the ones Zoro had to follow. He knew the chatterbox hated the silence pact - only being able to talk to initiated priests and other gods being a hassle that made the already jumpy god absolutely anxious.

In a moment of pity, Zoro turned to the most reasonable pair of the new priests.

“How much longer until you all have the authority to talk to Usopp?”

Though he thought it was a rather safe question, the way the grey-haired man’s lips quirked downward and the overall increase of tenseness in the already sour atmosphere keyed him into the fact that the question was perhaps tactless. Uncaring for his rather insensitive words, Zoro shrugged and took another pull from his cup as he waited for a reply.

Hack looked to Luigia briefly before answering the god, Hajrudin choosing to let the younger speak.

“The initiation ceremony is set for next week.”

Zoro nodded absently, his gaze falling to Usopp again.

“Can you even wait that long?”

Before the younger god could answer, the blond at the very end of the table was clattering to his feet, hands slamming down on the table as he leaned around Boo. Ignoring Luigia’s harsh whispered warning of, “ _Cavendish_!” as he continued aggressively.

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

Zoro didn’t even spare him a glance, opting instead to continue looking pointedly towards Usopp. The younger god looked between the two with a crease between his brows before he leant over the table, one hand holding his balance on the dark wood and the other steadying himself on Zoro’s arm as he whispered in his ear.

Zoro caught from the corner of his eye the way some of the priests’ stares snapped to the god’s waist, traveling from his narrow hips, up the tight muscles of his stomach to the peak of bare chest showing from under his usekh. All of them watched the exchange between them intently, only Luigia and Mornin showing courtesy to a private conversation and Zoro could already tell that the lot of them were severely lacking in priestly decorem even with his own uncaringness towards the rituals and regulations of the class.

The rest of the table couldn’t make out the words spilling from Usopp’s lips, only being able to hear the slightest vibration in the air that told of the fact that the **god of misfortune** was speaking, but they still all held their breath in hopes of catching something.

Zoro snorted at Usopp’s reply, his eyes bright with some emotion that wasn’t entirely pleasant as he swept his gaze over the table, the cup rising to his lips again as the darker man sat back.

He took his time draining the cup before setting it down harshly on the table, standing up from his seat and stretching his arms over his head as the tension in the room shimmered in the air.

“I plan on leaving as soon as Yosaku and Johnny show up.” He finally spoke, one hand gripping the handle of one of his swords.

Usopp’s face fell and Zoro had heart enough to feel a little bad about leaving him to his misery, but he didn’t worry too much.

Usopp wasn’t weak.

“Good riddance.” Cavendish collapsed back on his cushion roughly, face twisted in a sneer.

“You are talking to a _god_.” Luigia looked positively horrified at Cavendish, her jaw slacked and her staff visibly shaking in her hand where she was obviously trying to hold herself back from reaching down the line and smacking him a new one. “You will hold your _tongue_.”

Cavendish curled further into himself, face dolorous and arms crossed over his chest like a petulant child.

Before completely going back into his shell of self-inflicted isolation, Cavendish threw out one more remark, just to show that he could.

“I only see _one_ god here.”

It was stated quietly enough that Luigia could only bristle, Mornin sighing tiredly and patting her on the shoulder to draw back her ire.

Zoro snorted.

He was glad Usopp had found more people to care for him, and if the wide eyed look he could see the other god give down the table meant what he thought it meant, he knew that the other god had his hands full.

He turned on his heel, thoughts of heading back to Usopp’s uncomfortable bed flitting across his mind before thinking better of it and veering off to the courtyard to train instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Oh wow, here's eight men who all want to fuck Usopp!  
> Also me: But what if.....there were MORE?  
> Also please give me some comments on what the fuck you’re thinking because I need the three people who read this fic to validate me, thx <3


	4. Cleanliness is Close to Godliness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, listen

Usopp found Cavendish intensely watching Zoro train.

The tall blond was peeking around one of the columns surrounding the courtyard, his back to the open passage that led to the temple Usopp had just exited.The god paused to take in the other man, in the curl of his hair down his back and the long line of his body. 

He overlaid the image with that of the being he had seen during the tournament. 

The same hair. The same body. 

But where the other being had a blank grin and voidless eyes, Usopp could see in the hint of face viewable that Cavendish had a very expressive face. One that was currently twisted in a jealous grimace.

And didn’t that cause something in Usopp’s chest to beat faster?

The memory of his words, ‘ _ I only see one god here _ ,’ still rang through the marksmen’s mind, repeating and bouncing off his skull in a continuous loop.

It reminded him of Orlumbus’s words, the ones whispered in the muggy air between them as they laid alone in Usopp’s bed. 

Perhaps it was that soft memory that made him reach out his hand, grasping the edge of the taller man’s outer robe.

Cavendish spun around quickly, eyes wide and mouth opening to give some meaning to his spying, but he froze when he saw who stood behind him.

“God Usopp,” Cavendish straightened, back rimrod straight against the pillar, hand grasping a sword at his waist that shouldn’t have been there.

Following Usopp’s gaze, the blond quickly hid the sword under his cloak. 

“It’s, uh, not what it looks like?” 

Usopp looked around the other man at Zoro practicing by himself and raised a brow at Cavendish. The blond shuffled uncomfortably, glancing over his own shoulder before biting his lip and turning back towards the god.

“Okay, so maybe it is exactly what it looks like, but God Usopp!” The swordsman took a step closer to the god before thinking better of the idea and taking another step back until he was flush with the pillar. “The way he talked to you - it was rude and disrespectful. I can’t just let him walk away after treating you like a servant, I just  _ can’t _ .” 

Usopp watched his retreat carefully, paying little attention to the man’s words (though he wouldn’t deny a shiver running down his spine as Cavendish defended his honor), but instead studied his body language. 

It was obvious the ex-prince was wary and fully aware that Usopp’s self isolation had been his fault. And it had been.

But Usopp was calmer now. More aware of himself. 

Usopp could recognize his insecurities, could understand that despite being a god, he was terribly afraid of people finding fault in him and becoming bored with him.

But...he could hear the words echoing in his ears on repeat. The voices changing and shifting and merging, but he could still clearly hear Cavendish denying Zoro’s godhood in Usopp’s presence.

It was an intoxicating feeling.

Henotheism was the dream of all gods - to have people worship just you in the sea of deities that existed was the highest form of reverence.

The warmth blooming in his stomach was one mixed with pride and bliss and  _ lust _ .

He thought the time spent with Zoro would have sated his desire, but he was starting to realize that it had only made it stronger.

Usopp licked his lips as he stepped closer to Cavendish.

The blond looked startled by the action, understandably so, but he didn’t move from his spot despite the fact that Usopp was keeping plenty of room between them for the other man to escape if he so desired.

The god took another step forward, his hands raising to grab the edge of the priest-to-be’s pants, drawing closer. Cavendish’s eyes flickered down to his hands before they were back up, eyes unsure as he watched the darker man.

“God Usopp?”

Usopp tilted his head to the side, pulling himself closer until he was firmly pressed against the taller man’s chest. He had to stand on his toes to reach his face, grasping the blond’s cheeks between his palms. He hesitated before getting any closer, before going any further, letting the other man decide if the situation was fine.

Cavendish’s own hands came up more hesitantly to cup Usopp’s face.

“Is this okay?” There was a reverence in the blond’s voice that made Usopp’s eyelids flutter and his breath catch in his throat.

The god nodded as much as he could with the taller man’s hands boxing his jaw and then they were leaning towards each other, lips pressing softly and sweetly and Usopp didn’t even try to hold back the sigh as it rushed out of him and fanned across Cavendish’s face. 

The swordsman laughed breathily against Usopp’s mouth, his hands still hesitant and careful as they slid down the god’s jaw and twined with the curls at the back of Usopp’s neck.

They shifted, legs tangling as much as they could while they were both still standing. Their hips slotted together almost too easily and Usopp was vaguely aware that the taller man was bending out of shape to ensure that they fit together like puzzle pieces - mismatched but still fitting perfectly at odd angles. Cavendish’s lips pressed back against Usopp’s, the gentle slide of their lips shifting and pressing harder as one of the blond’s hands traveled down the god’s spine, coming to rest on his lower back and pulling the other man more firmly against him. 

The god’s own hands were fanned across the blond’s stomach, fingers spread over the plains of Cavendish’s abs and Usopp could feel the build of saliva in his mouth. 

He pulled away, their breaths quick and uneven, lips still close enough to brush against each other and Cavendish couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of the god -  _ his _ god. 

And he was a sight to see.

Pupils brown wide, lips puffed up and wet, a deep red spreading from under dark skin - the very image of desire.

And Cavendish wasn’t one to deny himself his desire.

Without even thinking about it, his hips were canting, his hand pressing Usopp more firmly against himself as he rubbed their lower halves together.

He had half a mind to stop and ask if the action was okay, but before he could get enough of a head to form words, much less questions, the god was pressing his slick lips against the swordsman’s neck, perfect teeth scraping against his skin and making the blond gasp, hips jerking in a thrust at the action.

A hand was slipping through the opening of his shirt, his preference for having his shirt unbuttoned an appreciated choice if the meaning was to be understood. The god’s hand trailed around Cavendish’s stomach, coming around his waist and yanking the back of his shirt out of his pants impatiently. 

Usopp pulled away from his neck, eyes bright and curious and  _ hungry _ and Cavendish knew he would never deny the man anything, ever. 

Their lips were pressing together again, the blond’s breath catching in his throat before releasing in a groan as soft lips and hot tongue attacked him.

Once again, they were parting, the blond having mere seconds to catch his breath before the god was slipping to his knees, hands grabbing at the other man’s pants and pulling incessantly until they slipped over the swordsman’s hips with ease.

Cavendish’s mind was muddled and swimming but the feel of slightly calloused hands sliding down his thighs had him slamming back into consciousness.

“Wait!” 

Immediately, Usopp froze, hands falling back in his lap. He looked up cautiously, eyes confused as the blond panted harshly. 

“Listen, as much as I want whatever you do to me, are you... _ sure _ this is okay?” Cavendish licked his lips nervously, eyes darting around them to see if anyone was watching. “I don’t want to get beaten to death by Priestess Luigia or, or get kicked out of priesthood training.”

Usopp blinked up at him before a wolfish smile spread across his face. He said nothing, not for lack of words to say - far from it - but his hands raised slowly back up to the blond’s thighs with the relief that he wasn’t getting pushed away and the intent to show through actions his gratefulness for the blond’s earlier words. 

He could feel the muscles under the surprisingly soft skin jump as he ran his hands down them, leaning forward to nuzzle his cheek against Cavendish’s thigh before placing a soft kiss against it.

All worries bled out of Cavendish in a long exhale, his hands coming up to card through the thick curls before him. Just in case, though, he sent out a silent plea to Mornin to ensure his safety against Luigia’s wrath.

Usopp continued with his kissing. His lips sliding over Cavendish’s thigh, up to the sensitive skin where his leg connected to his hip, brushing over the flat of his stomach all while running his hands gently over the taller man’s sides.

He shifted on his knees to get more comfortable, drawing his gaze down to the slowly filling cock hanging between Cavendish’s legs. The exhale he let out caused the member to twitch and Usopp could feel the saliva start collecting in his mouth at such an alarming speed that the underside of his tongue felt sore. 

The god licked his lips, glancing up at Cavendish before freezing.

The lowered lids, pupils nearly blown out completely and intense gaze had him trapped, the hand in his hair tightened and Usopp could feel his stomach clench with arousal, the heat flooding him in a crashing wave. The next exhale came in a stuttered gasp.

Usopp couldn’t keep the grin off his face, his thumbs running over Cavendish’s hip bones before he leant forward, dragging his tongue over the half-erect shaft.

He wrapped his hand around the budding erection, licking around it to ease the process as he jerked Cavendish off.

Despite his forwardness, Usopp’s face was burning with embarrassment and hesitation. He had learned how to suck dick from Zoro and found a way around his...rather prominent nose, but he had no experience with other people. What Zoro tolerated, others might not.

Usopp licked his lips again, mentally preparing himself as he brought his face closer.

“You don’t have to go any further if you don’t want to.” The blond’s voice interrupted - the sound hoarse and rough, the words obviously a challenge to say. 

Usopp’s eyes flickered up when a hand detangled from his hair and slid to cup his jaw, a long, elegant thumb sweeping over his cheek. He leaned unconsciously into it, closing his eyes and letting himself enjoy the feel of the man’s palm.

“I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t like.” The words were clearer, more firm with conviction and Usopp couldn’t stop the soft smile from spreading over his lips before he turned his cheek and sucked the thumb into his mouth, watching as the clarity fled from Cavendish’s eyes as a shuddered breath left the taller man’s lips.

Usopp let go of the thumb and went in, wrapping his lips around the head of the other man’s cock and running his tongue on the underside of the head. He held the shaft in his hand to maneuver it better, feeling every ounce of blood that poured into the dick as it filled out more and more and he hummed in pleasure at the obvious effect he was having on Cavendish. The god pressed himself further down, the slide of each inch pushing past his lips intoxicating.

Usopp had to stop when he felt the tip brush against the back of his throat. He pulled himself back, unwilling to choke on the cock just yet.

He couldn’t help but remember when Zoro had pressed him to his knees against a wall and held his head still, tilting it back and looking him in the eye as he pounded down the darker man’s throat. He had never been more aroused while sucking a dick in his life and it had made him much more agreeable to the act, but he didn’t want to rush this right now.

Maybe one day Cavendish could fuck Usopp’s throat until he  _ couldn’t  _ speak, but for now he just wanted to feel the other man in his mouth.

Cavendish’s hands slipped into his hair, his fingertips soft and gentle. Usopp looked up, lips wrapped around the taller man’s dick and locked eyes with Cavendish’s scrunched up face before flattening his tongue and tilting his head back, letting him slid Cavendish’s cock over his tongue and slowly past his throat, careful to control his gag reflex.

Cavendish’s fingers were rubbing more incessiently against his scalp and his thigh muscles were jumping under his own hands as the swordsman tried to hold himself back.

Usopp felt slightly mischievous forcing the man to stay still but it sent a thrill down his spine that the man was trying so hard to control himself while getting sucked off. 

The need to talk to him was buzzing against Usopp’s mind, though. Not being able to ask Cavendish any questions was killing Usopp. He needed to know if he was doing good or bad or if he needed to try something else - it wasn’t that he needed much, just some type of validation to sooth the worry bubbling in his chest. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Usopp glanced up again, freezing when he locked eyes with the other man. His hands curled deeper in Usopp’s curls, pulling the god’s head forward until Usopp felt his chin knock against his balls. “Do you know how pretty you look right now?”

The blush that spread across Usopp’s face came so rapidly that he felt light headed. It was the combination of the strangled voice, fixated gaze, and Cavendish’s own red cheeks that got Usopp as well as the slight hitch of the blond’s hips that pushed him deeper down Usopp’s throat, causing the darker man to jump and choke momentarily. 

“Sorry,” He pulled back a bit, letting his cock slip out of Usopp’s throat, his breath harsh and fast as he rubbed small circles into Usopp’s skin. “Can I-”

Cavendish cut himself off, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. 

Usopp waited, his own thumbs rubbing circles into Cavendish’s thighs to encourage him, but the words seemed to stick in the other man’s throat. After a minute, Usopp gave up and experimentally bobbed his head, funneling his tongue and letting Cavendish’s dick slide smoothly in and out of his mouth.

He waited to see the other man’s reaction, not disappointed in the way the blond’s eyes squeezed closed and one of his hands untangled from Usopp’s hair to cover his own mouth in an attempt to hold his voice back.

Usopp continued, bobbing his head and watching Cavendish’s face, leaning into the hand that moved to grasp his face. He relocated his own hands, one going down to roll the blond’s balls in his palm while the other traveled up to run along his stomach, fingers dipping between the ridges of his abs. 

“God Usopp, can I-” Cavendish had moved his hand from over his mouth to grip his blond hair, his lower lip disappearing in his mouth as his teeth gnawed on it gently. 

Usopp pulled back slowly, letting the cock drag against his own lips and sucking lightly on the head, tongue sweeping out to lap at the tip every few seconds as he waited for the other man to continue. Cavendish seemed to find it even harder to speak with Usopp lavishing attention to one of the most sensitive parts of his dick, but the god didn’t hold back in his ministrations. 

The swordsman’s thumb rubbed at the peak of Usopp’s cheek and the marksman couldn’t help but to lean into the touch, giving Cavendish a moment of reprieve to gather his thoughts.

Well as much of a reprieve as he could get with one of Usopp’s hands running up the length of his cock and his warm breath fanning over the tip of his head, but a reprieve all the same.

“Can I, uh, ask for something?” 

Usopp looked curiously up at the other man, flashing out a tongue to lap at a bead of pre gathering at the tip of Cavendish’s dick as he nodded.

The blond’s hands came down to cup the god’s face, his teeth worrying at his lip as he swept his thumbs across Usopp’s cheekbones and down to his jaw before pressing against the man’s lips.

“Can I cum on your face?”

Usopp stared up at the other man blankly before his eyes darkened and a smile spread across his slick lips. 

Instead of replying, he increased the speed on his hands, letting the spit act as lube to help his hands glide across the hard member. Cavendish’s breath increased in speed before he knocked Usopp’s hands away, taking his dick in his own hand and gripping the back of the god’s head, tilting it back as he jacked himself off.

Usopp opened his mouth in invitation, the action making the blond groan above him and increase his speed, hand flying over his cock as he used his grip to pull Usopp’s face closer until the tip of his dick pressed against his tongue. 

He came with a mumbled curse, thick ropes of cum splattering over Usopp’s tongue and face, his eyes closing as a stream got too close to them. 

It seemed to go on forever, the salty fluid filling the god’s mouth and the harsh pants filling his ears as Cavendish stroked himself until it hurt.

Usopp kept his eyes closed as he waited for Cavendish to come down from his orgasm, startling when he felt something press against his lips but relaxing when he realized it was the other man’s lips.

He swallowed the cum in his mouth before he kissed back, the remnants making his tongue sticky and thick as the blond pushed his own tongue into his mouth, the slick organ running over his teeth and deeper into his mouth.

Usopp made a sound at the back of his throat when he was pushed back more, face tilted so that the swordsman could push in further.

The god opened his eyes and promptly froze as he was met with the blank white stare of that being once again. 

The two of them both seemed caught in the other’s gaze before the creature was leaning toward, pushing his open smiled mouth against Usopp’s cheek and down his neck, pushing the darker man onto his back.

Before Usopp could make any reaction, the clang of metal resounded next to his ear.

He looked up, seeing Zoro standing above them, one of the three swords he was wielding pushing against the being’s own sword that he must have removed from his belt, though Usopp could not think of when he could have done that.

“Oh?” Zoro’s good eye widened as he looked down at them, though he said nothing more - or perhaps he couldn’t say anything more with his sword in his mouth. 

Their blades clanged against each other again, but the creature only got half a step up before he stumbled back, free hand clutching at his face as it twisted in what appeared to be agony. 

“Sorry, sorry,” the sword clattered to the ground as Cavendish’s back collided with the pillar. “Please don’t be scared of me, God Usopp.”

Zoro’s swords lowered to his side but Usopp could see the way his shoulders were still tense, ready to take action at the slightest appearance of a threat. 

The darker man’s chest hurt as he watched Cavendish crumble before him, the blond sliding down the rock surface until he sat heavily on the ground. His hands didn’t pull away from his face, pushing into his eyes and cheeks and forehead as if he could keep his features from shifting by physical force alone.

He kept up his mumbled stream of apologies and pleas, the words soft and thick as Cavendish obviously struggled to keep himself together. 

Usopp threw a cautious look at Zoro before sitting up on his knees and scooting closer to the usually flamboyant man. He raised his hand slowly, placing it gently on the blond’s head.

Cavendish stilled at the contact, peeking between his fingers at the god before him. 

He petted the man softly, keeping his gaze on the blond curls pulling through his fingertips and the way the light bounced off of the strands. 

Usopp was confused.

He didn’t understand what was wrong with the ex-prince. 

He desperately wanted to ask, to talk to the man, to get to know him better, to  _ understand _ him better. 

Usopp glances back up at Zoro, wondering if he could get the man to be his voice for him.  Traveling gods had little restriction on talking to people - only unable to speak outside of temples and out of the presence of their priests. Usually traveling gods tended to be closely followed by their priests so there was rarely any time that they couldn’t talk, but Zoro tended to wander off from the two priests rather frequently. 

Either way, Usopp was incredibly jealous of the other god at the moment.

It was perhaps that jealousy that stilled him from asking Zoro to translate his words, or maybe it was the desire to speak freely to the men of his own violation and not have to have a mouthpiece to get his words to reach them.

So he continued to pet Cavendish, waiting for the man to calm down and talk to him of his own will.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the man unfurled from his position and stretched his long legs out on either side of Usopp’s kneeling position. He looked unsure and his movements were carefully measured as he avoided moving to fast as if Usopp was a frightened creature he didn’t want to scare away.

“Are you,” he sniffled pitifully though Usopp couldn’t see any snot in his nose, “afraid of me?” 

Usopp continued to pet the blond as he thought about the question. 

He brushed a curl behind a rather shapely ear as he smiled at the other man as softly as he could before leaning forward and kissing the side of his mouth gently. Usopp gave a smile he hoped was comforting but promised that they would discuss the situation more at a later time.

Because they would.

The god stood up as Cavendish gave him a rather watery smile back, turning and grabbing Zoro’s forearm as he dragged them both back into the temple proper.

As soon as they were out of sight, he let himself collapse against Zoro’s chest, the shaking in his limbs slight but noticeable all the same. 

Zoro resheathed his swords and let Usopp recollect himself before steering the both of them towards the baths.

—————————

“You know, I heard that too much bathing is bad for the skin.” 

“That’s for hair.” Ideo responded distractedly as he rearranged the bottles in his basket, waist deep in the bath already. “And for humans - it’s different for gods. I mean, look at this?”

Blue Gilly glanced over at the bottle Ideo held up, looking at the dark blue glass with a fading white label that said in black text, ‘Bath Softener.’ 

“There’s enough oils and creams and soaps to keep your skin softer and smoother than it could ever be naturally.” 

“Is that so?” Blue Gilly hummed low in his throat at he continued kicking his feet in the water, staring listlessly at the cloudy liquid while Ideo busied himself with pouring various liquids and powders in the water, mucking it up further. 

He dipped his hand in the water, pulling it out and letting the liquid slip through his fingers as he watched the stream curiously.

“Doesn’t it feel harsh to you?” Blue Gilly finally murmured, shaking the water off his hand harshly. “Some of those bottles look to be older than our god is.”

Ideo paused in his work, looking at the bottle in his hand critically with a frown.

“You think we should get new ones?” He shook the bottle, thinking about the large closet of replacements in the back that Luigia had showed them. “Do you think that’s even a good idea? There must be a reason they use these.”

Blue Gilly looked at Ideo from the corner of his eye, a frown of his own turning his lips down before he leaned down a grabbed a handful of the bath water and tossed it at the other man. 

Ideo sputtered indignantly, his face reddening in anger as he threw himself at the long legged man, pulling him fully in the water with him.

They were wrestling still when the door opened to admit the two gods.

Ideo pushed the other priest away as soon as he saw Usopp. 

He pulled himself out of the water and headed over to the two, though his pace slowed the closer he got as he got a look at the god’s face. 

“God Usopp…?” He raised his hands hesitantly, cupping the darker man’s face as he tilted Usopp’s head back to get a better look at his face when he made no move to push the older man away. He threw a suspicious look at the other god when he saw Usopp’s drawn face. “Are you okay?”

Zoro rolled his eyes at the suspicion, pushing Usopp towards the priest.

“Take care of him, I have something I need to do.” With that he spun on his heel and exited the door without a backwards glance.

Usopp sighed tiredly, pulling his clothes off and tossing them to the ground before crawling into the water, Ideo scrambling to pick up the garments and placing them in their respective places. 

Blue Gilly watched the god slink deeper into the water until he was submerged up to his chin before he waded closer. Usopp watched him with hooded eyes, his narrow gaze making Blue Gilly smile wider. 

“I’m not going to attack you.” He laughed, getting close enough to the god to drag him half out of the water. He spread his arms out in welcome, a grin splitting his face. “Do you want a hug since you got abandoned by your fellow god?”

“Blue Gilly!” Ideo splashed towards them, his face twisted in a scowl. 

“What? I was just kidding-“ Blue Gilly cut himself off as Usopp wrapped his arms around the taller man’s waist, fitting himself snuggly into his embrace. “Or not.”

Ideo clicked his tongue at Blue Gilly, before turning worriedly towards Usopp.

“Are you okay?” He asked again, getting closer to placing a hand on the small of Usopp’s back, rubbing soothing circles into it. “Is there anything I can-“

“Is that dried cum on your face?” Blue Gilly cut in, one of his thumbs smoothing over Usopp’s face before his brought it closer to his nose and took a whiff. “That’s totally dried cum on your face.”

Usopp startled in his grasp, pulling back in shock before grabbing handfuls of water and scrubbing at his face to the sound of Blue Gilly laughing and Ideo reprimanding him.

“Hold on,” Ideo finally directed at Usopp, pulling his hands away gently and raising a cloth. “I’ll wash it off for you.” 

Usopp’s lip stuck out, his cheeks reddened from embarrassment as he let the man wipe at his face with the soft facial cloth, steadyfast pretending that Blue Gilly wasn’t in the room as he turned himself pointedly away from the man.

“Ignore him, God Usopp, he’s a child.”

“I most certainly am not.” The way he said it was decidedly flirtatious with exaggerated eyebrow wiggling and Usopp couldn’t contain his laughter at the display. 

Blue Gilly grinned in return and leaned against the god, Usopp pushing him playfully away with no real strength behind it as Ideo moved to wash his neck.

“You should be helping me, you know?” He sniped. Usopp gave the black-haired man a small smile that he returned readily before frowning at the taller man again. “It’s as much a part of your job as it is mine.”

Blue Gilly waved him away as he focused on Usopp.

“So did you and God Zoro get into a little more fun time after dinner? How absolutely naughty!”

He laughed at his own words but stopped when Usopp shook his head slowly.

“It...wasn’t God Zoro?” Ideo tried, his ministrations slowing to a stop when Usopp shook his head again.

Usopp had half a second to wonder why the two had quieted before he was spun around by Blue Gilly, the man grasping his shoulders as he looked him over almost frantically.

“Who was it? Did they hurt you? Are you in pain?”

The god shook his head as fast as he could comprehend the questions but Blue Gilly continued with his line of assault, his hands hovering over the length of Usopp’s body to find any imperfections without making any real contact other than on his shoulders. 

“Blue Gilly!” Ideo pulled the other priest away, his own grip tight on the other man. “Let him breathe!”

“Breathe?! Some bastard jizzed all over his face and I would like to know if I’m going to have to kill someone!”

Usopp felt decidedly worse when he was left alone in the bath, the two priests giving him a wide berth as they stared at him with a mixture of worry and anger. It made him feel cold and the pit of his stomach felt empty despite having just eaten dinner.

He wrapped his own arms around his waist, staring at the two with what he knew was a wounded look, which probably didn’t help his case, but he felt mildly betrayed by their reaction. 

They thought he was dirty? Because he was touched by someone who wasn’t a god? 

It felt hard to breathe, his chest was tight and he was definitely panicking now. He could taste Cavendish on his tongue, but who was Cavendish? Why did he have two faces?

“God Usopp?”

The water was too hot and he was too warm, the steam was clogging his lungs. He stumbled back, his lower back hitting the lip of the bath.

“I leave you both for five minutes and you throw him into a panic attack. Amazing.” The deadpanned voice sounded from right next to his ear and Usopp reached back blindly, pulling Zoro down until he knelt next to him. He turned around, burying himself in Zoro’s tits, clawing at his clothes until he could reach the man’s ear.

“They’re mad at you?” Zoro looked up, raising a brow at the two men. “You’re mad at him?”

“Mad?” Ideo stepped away from his fellow priest and towards the pair of gods. “At him?”

“We would never be mad at God Usopp!” Blue Gilly cut in, his long legs taking him closer to the two. “We’re mad at whoever ejaculated all over our god-”

“Do you think you own him?” Zoro’s voice sounded dark even to Usopp’s ears and the marksman looked up to see the green haired man’s face twisted in disgust. “You think you have a say in who he fucks?”

The air was quiet and Usopp wanted to turn around to see the two men but he held firm, his fingers playing nervously with the edges of Zoro’s clothes.

“Of course not.” 

The voice was raspy and Usopp was surprised to hear Blue Gilly’s voice like that. He turned around on instinct to see the man’s lips thinned to a narrow line as he glared back at Zoro.

Ideo seemed uncertain about what to do but he shook his head, hands wringing the facial towel unsuredly in front of him.

“That’s not what we meant, we were just worried he got forced-”

Zoro cut the man off with a scoff.

“You think he’s weak? Timid? That he would just let someone do whatever they wanted to him?”

Usopp blushed intensely at the words. Mostly because he had immediately had a panic attack and clung to Zoro at the first sign of rejection yet the other god was still defending him. He moved away from him self-consciously as if his pride could be repaired if he pretended the incident hadn’t happened.

“He was horny so he went down on the first priest that showed him any interest-” 

Usopp moved back faster than he had moved away to deliver a blow that was hard enough to send Zoro slipping backwards on the wet floor. He was lucky he was already on his knees, or he would have cracked his skull open on the hard granite. Or maybe his hard ass head would have cracked the granite instead.

Just like that, the atmosphere lightened as Usopp fumed down at the other god in silent rage and Blue Gilly startled himself into a laughing fit. 

“Geeze, I was just trying to help.” Zoro held up his palms to the marksman in mock surrender as he climbed back to his feet.

He bent down, getting closer to Usopp who was still at the rim of the tub as he whispered, “You’re welcome,” into the shell of the black man’s ear. Usopp smiled slightly at the other man, holding the edge of his haramaki as he whispered back, “Thank you, but you’re a dick.”

Zoro laughed gruffly before turning and leaving the room once more.

The three men watched the closed door for a few seconds before Ideo waded closer to the god, watching him closely to see if the action was okay.

“We didn’t mean it that way-” 

Usopp cut him off with a raised hand, waving the words away and smiling at the taller man.

“But just so you know, I am totally down if you want to suck anybody else’s dick today.” Blue Gilly piped in before Ideo turned a threw a punch.

The two started play fighting and Usopp took the time to lean against the edge and calm himself down further.

The worry was still there, creeping around the periphery of his mind, but he couldn’t keep letting his thoughts get the better of him.

It wasn’t good to continually fall back into the same pattern of distress over and over again at every bump and turn. 

He was terrified of being rejected but he was even more afraid of being alone.

Usopp let himself be drawn back to present to watch the two men and couldn’t help the way his tongue flashed out to lick his lips as they roughthoused in the bath. All thoughts of fear and anxiety took a backseat as he let his mind wander to the suggestion Blue Gilly had mentioned.

So they didn’t think he was too dirty?

That could change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally just finished writing this fucking chapter and I am exhausted please tell me what is happening because I didn't plan to write half of this, it just happened  
> Thx


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